


White Lilies

by NarutoDays (DAYS8)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Bad Decisions, Eventual Smut, F/M, Feelings Realization, Foreplay, Hanahaki Disease, Heartache, Lies, Lust, Miscommunication, Mistakes, Mutual Pining, Not A Fix-It, Pining, Romance, Slow Burn, Unhealthy Relationships, Unrequited Love, What-If, non-communication
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 00:27:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 61,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19684915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DAYS8/pseuds/NarutoDays
Summary: A Hanahaki AU -She knit a red scarf for him.  She never gave it to him.  Days turned into months, months turned into too late.Naruto starts dating.Hinata decides to move on.A sickness takes root in the heart.*Chapter 5 ending edited a little :)





	1. Introduction: Smoke on her tongue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Medicine](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/496210) by grimmjowkurosakidrake. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was terribly, awfully inspired by "Medicine," a Hanahaki AU for SasuSaku Month 2019, by grimmjowkurosakidrake on Tumblr (aka GrimmjowKurosaki19 here on AO3).
> 
> This is an AU of no The Last, and if there was a rare hanahaki disease.
> 
> Anyone familiar with my other stories, be aware...  
> This is a very different strain from what I usually write.  
> There is absolutely no fluff O_O At least, not in this chapter.
> 
> If you CANNOT handle seeing Naruto and Hinata with other people, then DO NOT read!
> 
> Added note: This is not anti-NH. 
> 
> With that, please enjoy the angst x(

The churning, burning, twisting poison that pools in her gut, so heavy and thick, makes it impossible for her to breathe.

She quickly turns her gaze away, back to the stand of books she had been perusing carefreely just moments earlier. 

She doesn’t have a right to be jealous. She never asked him out, never plainly confessed her feelings again, the scarf she knit for him stuffed at the bottom of her last drawer, out of sight, out of mind.

She blinks rapidly, willing back the heat of threatening tears, trying to focus on something other than the image of _them_. The way that brunette pulled on his hand, and the way he willingly followed after her, laughing, into a restaurant.

Her chest feels like it might cave in, her ribs pressing together, tightness seizing the pit of her stomach.

She might not have a right to be jealous, but she’s allowed to feel sad, right?...

She had naively held hope. 

That time they sparred, and she healed a blocked tenketsu on his shoulder. He flinched when her fingers pressed at the base of his neck. She daringly brushed the tips of her fingers against the skin over his pulse, earning her boyish giggles and a look of aghast surprise. Then how he tried to tickle her back.

That time after they had Ichiraku together. How they spent very nearly three hours together there, eating and talking about nothing and everything. How he said she totally understands him in a way _no one_ else does ~~about ramen~~. It hadn’t been a date, just a catch-up between friends.

 _All_ of those times when they ran into each other after she and Team 8 returned from their missions, and he never failed to expressively tell her that she’s amazing and strong. 

She thought he might be attracted to her. She thought maybe they were getting closer.

But it’s quite obvious. Now.

She’s just not his type. Romantically.

This girl, and the one he dated before her, are outspoken, girly, and easily excited, like him. It would be easier to wallow in her feelings if they were bratty girls. But they’re not. They’re cute. 

Her gaze falls unseeing on the books before her, guilt emerging.

She should feel happy for him. She should be cheering him on. If she truly cares for him, she should understand that he deserves love and affection more than anyone, even if it’s not from her.

She slowly raises her gaze toward the restaurant that they just entered.

She lets out a long breath, gathering the broken pieces of her heart back together.

She shouldn’t be waiting for the day they break up. 

She should wish for his happiness.

Even if it’s not with her.

*

She swallows back the burn in her throat when she hears Naruto call her name. She takes a steadying breath and turns.

Only to take another careful breath upon seeing them, schooling her features into a calm smile, one she’s practiced in front of the mirror. _Breathe in...and out._

“Rumi, meet Hinata!” he says cheerfully. “Hinata, this is Rumi, my girlfriend.”

She’s cuter up close, with light brown eyes flecked with green that gaze at her cautiously.

Hinata speaks first. “Hello, Rumi-san. It’s nice to meet you.” She thanks the heavens that her voice doesn’t sound choked. Because she can hardly breathe through the squeezing on her lungs.

Rumi nods, her expression softening. “Hello,” she says quietly. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

This makes Hinata glance quickly at Naruto, who’s just grinning widely. “I told her about your missions from that last time we saw each other!”

“Oh.” Hinata hasn’t heard anything much about Rumi specifically, but she manages to politely respond. “I’ve heard that the two of you are a good match.” She ignores the shuttering pain in her heart, how the words feel like a lie, even if it’s true.

But her words make his girlfriend blush, and Naruto puts his hands on his hips proudly. “Hinata’s an important comrade to me! I hope the two of you can be friends!” 

Hinata nods politely and Rumi shines a bigger smile at her, more trusting this time.

Seeing that there’s nothing more she needs to say, Hinata bows a bit to excuse herself. “I must be going now. It was nice to meet you, Rumi-san.”

Rumi bows a little, too, and Naruto continues to grin. “See you later, Hinata!”

She glances quickly at him and nods in acknowledgment before turning away. 

She has no plans of seeing him, if possible. She knows it now. It takes everything in her to fake happiness for him. It takes too much. 

Her feelings aren’t reciprocated, and she can’t force him to love her the way she loves him. She knows that he cares about her, even deeply, but that’s the only way he knows how to care for others.

He doesn’t desire her.

She can’t make him want her.

She’s held onto him for too long, over 10 years.

She’s 20 now. An adult. 

She knows that maybe now, it’s time for her to…

*

She asked Kurenai, just to be emotionally prepared. Thankfully, he won’t be at Mirai’s birthday party. 

It’s been a painful few weeks. Purposefully avoiding Naruto, purposefully distracting herself by shopping for Mirai.

But she’s glad that she put so much thought into her present.

The little girl is infatuated with her gift, a singing stuffed animal. “Help, help me,” the little girl whines, her tiny fingers fumbling with the paws.

She crouches down beside Mirai and helps her press the rabbit’s feet, which then plays a little jingle. 

“Again, again, please!” she cheers.

Hinata obliges, watching the little girl stand up and dance around to the music.

“Are you the favorite aunt?” A voice sounds from behind her, and Hinata turns to see Susumu, a cousin on the Sarutobi side of the family, a couple years older than herself. 

She smiles as an answer, shrugging. “Are you the favorite uncle, Susumu-san?” she instead asks in return.

His eyes widen and he frowns. “I’m quite certain that your teammate Shino gets that honor.” He glances pointedly at Shino, who picked Mirai up and began dancing with her.

She smiles widely at the scene the two make.

Shino doesn’t open himself up to many people, but around Mirai, he seems almost carefree.

“Does she know your name, yet?” Susumu asks, regaining her attention.

“She calls me ‘Nata-nee’, so she’s almost got it.” 

“Aw, you’re not even technically a part of the family, and she knows your name before mine!”

“I suppose I have nothing better to do with my free time than babysit Mirai-chan,” Hinata replies, but she smiles to show that she doesn't mind at all. 

Susumu nods and kneels beside her. He looks to be considering his next words before he turns his gaze at her. “There’s no one special? You’re not seeing anyone?”

An image of Naruto rises, which she immediately squashes down. Her face reactively heats up, the burn crawling over her neck. The question is forward enough for her to understand his intentions in speaking to her. “N-no…” She shakes her head, averting her gaze.

“Huh. That’s surprising,” he murmurs quieter.

The compliment makes her frown at the floor, discomfort racing up her nerves. “It-it’s not really,” she denies, still unable to make eye contact with him.

It’s silent between them for a couple of seconds as he assesses her. She knows the question is coming before he speaks. “Would you maybe want to get lunch with me sometime?”

*

Her initial reaction was to politely refuse.

But she didn’t.

She felt it before she understood it. That this was her chance, an opportunity to move on.

Susumu-san’s timing is one to be grateful for.

She also knows that he’s trustworthy, having seen him on a few occasions before at her old teacher’s apartment, helping with small tasks or just popping in to say hi.

She goes on a couple of dates with him, slowly settling into a comfortable familiarity with him. 

She thinks maybe she can do a relationship with him.

He seems discerning enough to understand that he needs to move slowly with her, that she’s still warming up to him, that she’s not ready for hand-holding or hugging.

The first time she touches him, she does it on accident.

They just finished their third outing together when she catches a tall, black-clad form at the corner of her eye. Unbidden, she glances over, her attention caught by...him.

All sun-soaked beauty, his blue eyes brightening, his posture straightening-

She jerks her attention back to Susumu, her hand raising up as a physical barrier between herself and Naruto. She settles her hand on his arm, only just barely conscious of how intimate it is to touch his muscle, only just registering Susumu’s surprised yet pleased expression as she guides them away.

When they’re several paces from the threat to her emotional health, she quickly withdraws her hand from Susumu’s arm. She clutches her hands together in embarrassment. 

She can feel Susumu’s gaze on her.

“Hinata?” he questions.

She realizes then that her breathing is irregular, and she calms herself. “Ah, yes?” She turns to look at him.

His eyes, though not the azure she admires, are shades of dark brown that gaze at her kindly, patiently, reassuringly. “Let’s meet again soon?”

“I...I would like that.”

“How about for dinner?” he quietly proposes.

It would be a first time for them. It would certainly be more romantic, not casual in the way they have been seeing each other.

She thinks of Naruto, she thinks of a childhood love not meant to be, she thinks of Rumi, and she’s nodding in agreement before the pain sears any deeper. “If you’re free this Saturday?”

He smiles warmly, almost shyly, and she knows that she’s lucky to have his attention, but…

*

The dinner was _romantic._

He obviously made efforts to woo her, dressing nicely and taking her to a pasta restaurant with mood lighting.

She put in effort, too, wearing a dress, instead of her usual blouse and skirt.

“You look very nice,” he told her, and she replied in kind.

They made easy conversation about missions, Mirai, teammates, Mirai, current events, and Mirai.

He walked her home, and asked, "Is this okay?" when he took her hand.

She met his earnest gaze and silently nodded.

Altogether, it was just about as perfect as any date should go.

Except that she couldn’t help but compare his hand to what she could remember of Naruto’s...from the time they fought together in the war, or the times they’ve sparred, and he helped her up to standing.

Susumu’s is somewhat bonier, more slender. Warm and slightly larger.

But emotionally, she doesn’t feel anything from it.

She wants to. 

She desperately wants to.

She wants to feel a passion for Susumu, she wants to feel safe and warm and good and right. She wants to lie down and think of him with yearning before closing her eyes. She wants to wake up, counting the days and hours for the next time she’ll get to see him.

She wants, desperately wants, to fall in love with him.

 _It just hasn’t been enough time, yet_ , she thinks.

She refuses to listen to how her heart still breaks.

*

It’s unspoken between them that they’re officially dating.

He doesn’t push her to label them, but she thinks that he knows that she considers him her boyfriend. 

After all, he already greeted her father at the door of the Hyuuga Main House (surprise!) after their first dinner together.

He handled the unexpected introduction like a champ, perfectly friendly and perfectly polite.

Even she was impressed, and they had a good laugh about it on their following date.

“Did he say anything about me after?” he asked nervously.

“Not really…”

“Oh.”

“Oh, Susumu-kun, it’s a good thing if he doesn’t say anything,” she soothed.

“Really?” he asked.

“Yes, really.” She smiled at his relief.

He’s easy to be with, a down-to-earth sort of guy, and rather sweet.

She knows that she’s lucky.

She tries not to pay attention to the fact that she’s using him, that each warm smile from him fills her with guilt. 

He deserves better from her.

So she decides to start telling others, to make it really official.

“Susumu-kun and I have been seeing each other,” she tells Kurenai.

“Oh, really?” her sensei asks with interest. “How is he?”

Hinata smiles. “He’s nice. He’s very kind, and he’s taking things at my pace.”

Kurenai nods, encouraging her to keep going.

“We’ve already been on five dates,” she adds.

“Wow,” Kurenai exclaims approvingly. “Well, I have always thought that Susumu seemed like a good kid.”

Hinata smiles, glad that her sensei is being supportive.

The question she’s afraid of doesn’t come.

Not with Sakura.

Not with Kiba.

Not with Shino.

“Do you like him?” Hanabi asks one afternoon, hanging out in her doorway, as she’s preparing to go out with Susumu.

“I like him,” she simply responds.

Hanabi frowns. “What about ‘Naruto-kun’?”

It makes her ribcage feel like it’s caving in, stabbing at the pit of her stomach.

But she chooses to glare at her younger, outspoken sister. “What about him?” she asks, though the words feel like smoke on her tongue.

****

He fucked up.

Again.

When he tried so hard not to.

He made sure to remember to celebrate their first month of dating. He got Rumi flowers, they had dinner, and he thought it was nice and fun.

But during their following date, that he just came back home from, she was very quiet. He didn’t think anything of it, which apparently, was something else he did wrong.

How was he supposed to know that something was bothering her if she didn’t tell him right away? 

How was he supposed to know _what_ was bothering her if she didn’t tell him? She sighed and grumbled as if he was supposed to already know.

That he’s not supposed to talk about other girls on their dates. 

_I mean, she was the one who asked me what I’ve been up to!_ Plus, he talks about so many different things, how was he supposed to remember what he mentioned in passing during their anniversary date, a week ago? What of it if he mentioned Sakura, his own teammate, and Hinata from Team 8? He saw them both briefly that week, and well, he thought he would mention that.

Well...Rumi said he didn’t just “mention” them.

He thinks they have different definitions of what “mention” means. 

Rumi said that was beside the point. She said he should be more sensitive to her feelings, especially since they don’t get to spend too much time together with their missions and different schedules.

That was the bane of his first relationship. Kanae broke up with him, saying that he didn’t pay enough attention to her, that she thinks he’s fun to hang out with, but not as boyfriend and girlfriend. 

He was bummed about the break-up for awhile. 

But he also thought that it was weird because Kanae was the one who went around telling everyone that she was his girlfriend. He just went along with it, and before he really knew it, they were dating, and everyone was asking him about her.

When they broke up, Kanae told him that she was looking for someone long-term. And she realized that he wasn’t taking her seriously, that she needed someone who would spend more time on her. She also said it wasn’t his fault, after all, he’s so busy, and his mind just never seemed completely focused on her.

He said, “Okay...so...we’re not together anymore?”

And she sighed, nodding, murmuring that she should have expected a response like his.

He’s not sure how else she wanted him to reply.

He learned from the experience, anyhow. 

When Rumi asked him out, he thought he’d try again. He properly researched dating with Sai, he made sure to set aside time just for her, he tried to ask her about how she’s been doing each time they met, and he thought they were getting along pretty well. She even kissed him on the cheek after their second date.

It was cute, and he thought about it a bit. 

He managed to give her a peck on the cheek after their third date.

And then it was their one month anniversary date...he tried to kiss her again, she just stepped away, and…oh well.

He didn’t think much of it.

At least Rumi didn’t break up with him over their fight. She asked him if he could be more careful, and he agreed. 

No kiss tonight, though.

He’s starting to realize that maybe a kiss is like a reward. If he does a good job as her boyfriend, she’ll let him be more physically affectionate with her.

The thought of being more _physical_ with her makes him blush. If he does a better job, if she doesn’t break up with him…

He knows they’re barely at the kissing stage, but a guy can hope, right?

*

“She’s very elegant,” Rumi voices when Hinata is out of hearing range.

“Hm.” That’s not the first word that Naruto would choose, but he supposes maybe. “I hope she’s okay,” he observes.

Rumi looks up at him. “Was something the matter with her?”

“Ah, well, she seemed kinda sad.”

“...Really?” 

“Yeah.” Naruto looks down at his girlfriend skeptically. It was pretty darn obvious. Her face and voice told it all. Hinata’s practically an open book. He makes a mental note to check in with her later. “I’m glad you finally got to meet her! I wanna introduce you to Shikamaru and Sakura-chan soon, too.” Sai, also, but maybe a little later. First meetings with Sai are a toss-up.

“Okay.” Rumi smiles at him sweetly.

He’s glad that Rumi is willing to meet his friends. He wants her to get along with his precious people. He’d like to count her among his precious people, too.

*

After a report debrief at the Tower, he sets his path straight toward Ichiraku, as per routine. He’s making his way through the crowd when he spots a head of midnight blue hair.

She’s exiting a cafe, and he realizes it’s been _a long time_ since he last spoke to her. A month or more maybe? He tends to track time by missions, so it must have been 5 or 6 missions ago.

That’s just too long. He never goes over two missions without at least seeing her in passing.

Before he can call out to her, he realizes that she’s talking with a guy he doesn’t recognize.

He definitely appears older than her, decidedly not another Hyuuga with rather tan features and a much stronger facial structure.

His path takes him closer to them, and he continues looking to see if she’ll notice him. 

She does, that flash in her eyes unmistakable. 

He’s about to call out and wave in greeting when she turns her light gaze back up at that stranger. Her hand comes up to his tricep, leading the stranger away, turning them in the opposite direction.

The blatant ignoring of his presence feels worse than a punch from Sakura. It grips his chest, shock and disbelief stopping him in his tracks.

He turns to look at her, his brain working overtime to figure out if what just happened actually happened.

There’s no doubt in his mind that she saw him. Absolutely none. He’s 100% certain that she recognized him--he could see it written across her face. 

He can’t at all pinpoint what he could have done to cause her to ignore him. The action goes against everything he knows about her, everything that characterizes their relationship. She’s always been straightforward with him, always taken the time to explain things to him. Out of anyone, out of everyone he knows, he would never expect her to just...

When he realizes she’s not going to turn her head to at least acknowledge him or show an expression of apology, he feels like salt is piling at the back of his tongue.

His stare shifts to the distant man beside her.

He wonders if that stranger must have something to do with it. He’s never seen that guy before. He’s never seen Hinata act that way before. The two seem potentially correlated.

Maybe she’s on a secret mission, and he couldn’t interrupt them. Maybe it has to do with her clan. Whatever it was, he decides that he shouldn’t take it personally. 

Whatever the problem is, he’s certain that he can talk it through with her later.

*

He leans against a fence, staring up at the few visible stars above him, his mind playing back what had occurred in his apartment just twenty minutes ago.

It’s become an almost regular thing after their dates, and he’d be hard-pressed to say it’s not his favorite part of the night.

Convincing Rumi to come home with him for some half-assed excuse, then making out with her wherever. The couch, the genkan, the kitchen.

It’s unlike anything he’s ever felt before, and he didn’t know he could feel hungry for a person the way he aches for her lips, her touch, her skin, her voice.

And tonight.

 _Tonight_.

She let him feel her without her bra on.

It was the most erotic thing, and he understands--intimately--now how his Oiroke no Jutsu held such power over his enemies.

He has trouble looking at Rumi, no matter where they are--out on the street, in a restaurant or store--without thinking about kissing her, touching her, making her make those cute sounds that put a flame over his whole body and makes him feel _like a man_.

He can’t help but wonder when she’ll let him _do it_ with her. He knows that she likes it. He knows that she likes the way he touches her, kisses her, handles her. And he knows that _she_ knows that he’s fit to burst out of his skin with desire.

But so far, each time he stops to gaze at her, to convey his feelings, she pulls away from him, saying that it’s getting late and that she needs to get home.

If only she didn’t still live with her parents. Then maybe…

He’s certain that it’ll happen soon. It needs to happen soon because he doesn’t know if he can control himself for much longer.

Especially if she’s going to be taking her bra off for him from now on.

*

He’s heading to the Tower when he spots Team 8 at the entrance.

He realizes it’s really been ages since he last got to talk to Hinata. He’s seen Kiba, even Shino, around. He never sees her, the last time being...

She leans down to pet Akamaru, waves to her teammates, then takes off in a hurry.

Kiba yells out a greeting to him, but he barely registers it as he remembers the way she ignored him in the village center.

He watches her become a distant speck, and he can’t help but wonder... _Is she ignoring me again?_

He scratches his head in frustration, and this time, he has no way of telling if she noticed him or not.

He strides up to Kiba and Shino. “Where’s she off to so fast? Didn’t you guys just get back from a mission?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s going to see Susumu,” Kiba explains, which doesn’t explain anything to him.

“Who’s Susumu?” he asks, somewhat annoyed that Kiba spoke as if he’s supposed to know who that is.

Kiba squints at him. “You don’t know who Susumu is?” he asks, too incredulously for him to not take offense.

“No, I’ve never heard of him!”

“Wow. Okay. She’s been dating him for, like, more than a month now. Where have you been?”

He stares at Kiba, processing. “Hinata’s...dating someone?”

Kiba stares back, nodding with brows furrowed in obvious annoyance.

“Yes, Naruto, she is dating Sarutobi Susumu, a 22-year old jounin of considerable ability in fire, earth, and shuriken jutsu.”

He breathes in, gaining nothing from Shino’s explanation, and asks, “So...who is this guy?”

The pair look at Naruto curiously.

Shino breaks the confused silence. “I believe the question you mean to ask is whether he is a good person. The reason is I just answered that Hinata is dating Susumu, a jounin descended from the Sarutobi clan.”

“Right,” Naruto replies. “Right,” he repeats once more, to no effect. “Have you two met him?”

They nod.

“Yeah,” Kiba verbally responds. “He seems like a cool guy, and Hinata said that he’s very nice and respectful, so.” Kiba shrugs, letting that speak for the rest.

“But…” Naruto can’t figure out what about this whole situation is agitating him. Their seeming carelessness about it all, maybe? “You guys are okay with letting her date this person? It sounds to me like you guys barely know who he is!” 

Kiba snorts. “Well, we’re not the ones dating him! We’ve seen him around Kurenai-sensei’s place, and Hinata seems happy, so…” His hands fly up, signaling that’s all they need to know.

“Still, though, this is Hinata. Shino, you get what I mean, right?”

Shino’s brows furrow. “No, Naruto, I do not. The reason is Hinata is 20 years old, quite capable of making responsible choices on her own, especially in regards to who she decides to date.”

“I have a question for you, Naruto,” Kiba says immediately, too quick for him to fully comprehend Shino’s explanation. “Why does Hinata’s love life matter to you?”

The question pricks at his pride. “She’s a really important friend! I’m just concerned is all.”

“Uh-huh. So important that you didn’t know who Susumu is…Well, we don’t want to keep ya. We’ll see you around! Come, Akamaru!” Kiba waves and they head off the steps.

Naruto works his jaw and turns around, finally realizing enough to know that he’s _upset_. 

It suddenly strikes him that the man he saw her with that last time could possibly have been Susumu.

He tries to understand the heaviness in his chest, the sinking, anxious feeling that grates at him when he remembers how she pointedly ignored him. How she turned away, holding that guy’s arm, and never looked back. 

Disgust. 

That must be it.

He’s not sure what exactly he’s disgusted at. Feeling disgusted with Hinata is new, and he doesn’t like it, but that must be it. 

That she would ignore him like that for her boyfriend.

He grimaces. 

Hinata having a boyfriend is just so wrong, not okay at all, definitely worrisome.

He gets what Shino was saying, that Hinata is responsible and blah blah blah.

But she’s just _too nice_. Too pure, or something. He’s certain that that guy will take advantage of her the first chance he gets.

Hinata doesn’t deserve just any old guy. She needs someone who’s good enough for her. She needs someone who’s at her level. And some no-name jounin just doesn’t cut it.

For a second he can’t breathe, like something sharp got stuck at the back of his tongue. He clears his throat, but when that doesn’t help, he coughs. He clears his throat again, breathing hard until he’s certain whatever he choked on passed.

He sighs.

He can’t believe she didn’t at least tell him herself that she was seeing someone.

*

His hungry gaze falls heavily on the form of his girlfriend straddling his lap. Boobs that perfectly fit in his palms, squishy and soft, malleable to each and every touch.

Her response is even better.

The way she sighs and moans when he sucks on her nipples and licks around the areolas. The way she humps against him.

All of it has him rock hard in his pants, and he doesn’t think he can take much more. “Rumi…” he groans.

“Naruto-kun,” she moans. 

“Mmm…” He pants against her skin, leaving sloppy kisses at her neck. “Ugh...I don’t think I can control myself for much longer…”

Her breath quiets, and she stills, even as he continues to work kisses along her pulse.

He straightens, finding her uncertain gaze. He has no idea what’s holding her back. She must want this as much as he does. He searches her hazel eyes for answers.

“Naruto-kun…” 

“Yeah?”

She gazes at him for a few seconds, before her eyelashes lower, her gaze falling away. “Do you...love me?”

He stares at her. “Yeah, ‘course I do.”

Her expression flinches, as if what he said hurt rather than helped. “Really?” she asks. “You really love me?”

He blinks in confusion but nods. “I love you, Rumi.”

She fixes her gaze on him, blinking rapidly, and he knows that she’s studying him for something. So he looks back at her steadily, waiting for her scrutiny to pass.

She suddenly puts her forehead onto his shoulder, and he can feel her lashes flutter against his skin. “Naruto-kun..you know that...you know that I...I’ve really fallen in love with you. I...I think you’re really great. You’re so brave and...you work so hard, you care so much for everyone, for the village, and...I really admire you...I love you...”

He stares across his living room, trying to focus more on her words than her soft body pressed against his, his memory scratching at his consciousness. It’s not the first time he’s heard something like this.

Hinata said something similar years ago during that battle with Pain. When he was pinned to the ground, and she almost died trying to save him, and he practically lost his mind.

Suddenly, he doesn’t like it.

He doesn’t like it that Rumi reminded him of her. He doesn’t like it that he was reminded of that fight. He just plain doesn’t like what’s going on right now.

And he feels a discomforting sharpness at the bottom of his throat. He tries to ignore it, realizing that whatever’s going on with Rumi, he needs to not interrupt it.

But he can’t fuckin’ breathe.

He clears his throat awkwardly, but it doesn’t help to dislodge the blockage in his throat. He coughs as quietly as he can.

Rumi sits up to look at him.

He’s coughing nonstop. “Sorry-” he manages to choke out. He leans over, hacking, his whole chest tightening painfully at the exertion. 

“Naruto-kun??” Rumi gets off of him and starts hitting his back.

Suddenly he feels bile rising.

He’s going to be sick.

He dashes to the kitchen, tears off the cover of his trashcan, and…

He stretches his mouth wide, retching into his rubbish. Something long is sliding out of him, getting stuck to his tongue, and he grimaces, choking around it, as he tries to work it out of him. He spits it out, a long, thin, white _something_ , almost like paper, shining in his saliva and digested dinner. He’s breathing hard, head still bowed. “Whatthefuck,” he gasps. He stares at it, having no recollection of ever eating paper.

“Naruto-kun, are you okay?” Rumi asks, her hand rubbing up and down on his back. 

He stays bent over, nodding. “Yeah...I don’t know…what…”

“I wonder if it was food poisoning…” she murmurs worriedly.

Whatever it is, he felt it since yesterday at the Tower. “I don’t...think it was…Sorry...Rumi…”

He peeks over at her, and she's shaking her head. “I just hope you’re okay…”

He nods, straightening, going to the kitchen sink to rinse out his mouth. “I feel better…”

She gives him a relieved smile and turns, redressing herself.

Talk about killing the mood.

He’s heard of that phrase, but he had never done it himself so spectacularly. “Sorry, Rumi,” he says, unsure of what else he can offer to her. “Do you need to go home now?”

She nods. “Yeah…”

He moves to put his own shirt back on, to walk with her to the door.

But she turns around and shakes her head. “I can go home by myself. You’re sick. You should rest here just in case.”

“I’m feeling better now.”

“No, really, Naruto-kun. It’s okay. You rest.” 

He thinks that maybe she doesn’t want him to walk her home, and he frowns, wondering if he’s interpreting her correctly. “Then, good night, Rumi.”

“Good night, Naruto-kun,” she replies quietly. She steps out, and he’s left alone.

He turns back to his kitchen, his thoughts shifting to the contents of his vomit. He peers into his rubbish, at the long, white slip of material. He frowns at it.

He picks it up gingerly.

It appears interestingly solid for something that had been inside of him. 

He runs it under the kitchen faucet, cleaning off the yuck, and rolls out the edges. 

It’s alarmingly as long as his hand, sloped along the edges, coming to opposing points at either end. The texture soft, yet smooth.

Like a flower petal. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, irresponsibly, I've started another story ><
> 
> Writer's block got me bad on my other ones, the words seriously drag...even though I have them outlined and I know where I want the story to lead, the sentences are really really unnatural.
> 
> So in the meantime...there's this floral mess.
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


	2. He's not a ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: This is not anti-NH.  
> If you can't handle seeing Naruto and Hinata with other people, it does not get much better here. It's disgustingly angsty (for me to have written. I've read much worse NaruHina angst..."Girl No 10" TT.TT).
> 
> Please enjoy the angst!

One thing Hinata knows about herself is that she has always been good at giving gifts. She has never been the most touchy person, although being on a team with Kiba and Akamaru helped her to relax her boundaries. 

She prefers giving presents to show that she cares when words and actions come too slowly to her.

With presents, she can plan. She has the time to think about the receiver, reflect on his likes or needs, and enjoy the process of preparing the gift.

The best part is seeing the receiver’s happy reaction. Seeing the receiver use her gift, and knowing that she made a difference for that person.

So when Susumu’s birthday comes around, she makes sure to spend time on planning. So that he knows how much she appreciates him.

She reserves a table for them at a popular sushi restaurant for dinner. She knits fingerless gloves in blue and black yarn, his favorite colors. She wraps them in silver tissue and hides the present in her purse.

He’s all smiles when he picks her up from her house. “Are you ready to go?”

She nods and steps out with him. “Happy birthday!” she congratulates.

He grins wider. “Thanks. It’s definitely a happy one now.”

She realizes the meaning of his words and smiles uncomfortably. “Susumu-kun…” she complains quietly.

He just chuckles. “You’re cute, Hinata.”

She shakes her head in denial. Not to be cute. Not to be modest. Not because she’s shy.

She knows he misconstrues her discomfort for all these things, and that knowledge only makes her feel worse.

After two solid months of dating, there are times when she thinks maybe she could fall for him.

He does something silly. It’s kinda cute.

He laughs while telling a story. It’s nice.

He listens attentively to her. It’s an attractive quality.

She counts his good points over and over. Over and over. She purposefully takes notice of when he does or says something kind or intelligent. She adds it up higher and higher. 

When will it satisfy her? When will it be enough? When will she feel it? When will she think more than just... _he’s a nice person, a good man, I like him, but-…_?

He opens the door to the restaurant for her. “I’ve been meaning to try this place for a long time now!”

She smiles, glad that she planned well. “You pointed it out to me a few weeks ago, remember?”

He gazes at her warmly. “Thanks for making a reservation. The wait time here is horrendous.”

The hostess leads them to their table. Hinata helps him remove his jacket, and he helps her with her sweater. They take their seats, and-

 _He_ is right there.

Across the restaurant, two tables away, cerulean staring right at her, unblinking.

“Ah,” she verbalizes, as all gravity plummets her senses to the ground--her head, chest, and arms left numb.

“Hm?” Susumu questions.

She shifts her eyes jarringly to her date. “It’s a friend,” she says, as naturally as possible, though smoke is certainly filling her insides.

“Your friend?” He turns to look behind him.

“Yes. Naruto-kun,” she answers, each syllable of his name distressingly beautiful.

“Ahhh,” he replies in understanding, apparently having made eye contact with the village hero. “Konohamaru-chan is always talking about him...oh, that’s right, the two of you were in the same graduating class, weren’t you?”

She nods again. “Yes. We were.”

He seems to pause to look at her, and she remembers her manners.

“Maybe after we give our orders, I can introduce you.” She wishes she were more oblivious. She wants nothing more than to leave.

“Yeah, I’d like that,” he says, his lighthearted tone in complete opposition to the nerves turning her legs and arms into ash.

The service is quick, and Susumu’s decisiveness is admirable, as usual. The waitress leaves, and Susumu looks at her as if he’s ready to stand.

She forces a smile out and stands up, somehow finding her limbs still solid enough to carry her across the room.

She’s terribly conscious of Naruto watching them, and the fact that he’s _not_ smiling. The expression on his face inexplicably troubled, his eyes obviously shifting between herself and Susumu, back and forth. She notices Rumi turn around to look, a small smile of recognition lighting her face.

“Hello, Rumi-san, Naruto-kun.” Hinata bows slightly to both of them, putting on her best Hyuuga smile.

Rumi smiles wider, seemingly happy that she remembers her. She stands up, per manners dictate, turns to Naruto to catch his attention, and urgently nods at him to stand, too.

He blinks, as if coming out of deep thought, and follows suit.

It’s so much worse to see him stand, to experience his familiar height, stature, and overall presence. She’s already losing her breath. “...I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Sarutobi Susumu-kun.” She places her hand on his elbow and tears her eyes back up to her date.

“Hello,” Rumi says politely, exchanging slight bows with him.

When a beat of silence, a beat too long, follows, their attention shifts to Naruto. 

“Hello,” he says shortly, and Hinata can’t help but think...he’s acting strange. She knows that they _all_ know that he’s acting uncharacteristically rude, his silence surprisingly worse than his renowned tactless, loudmouth tendencies.

“Sorry if we’re interrupting your dinner,” Susumu awkwardly begins.

“No, you’re not,” Rumi says, trying to save herself and Naruto from public shame. She turns a confused smile at Naruto.

“Yeah, no, it’s good to meet you,” Naruto says, finally extending a hand.

Hinata and Rumi watch them shake hands, and that’s when Hinata figures it out.

Rumi seems to, too, as both kunoichis’ smiles dissolve.

Animosity.

Spite alerting their senses.

The two retract their hands.

Hinata looks up at Susumu in worry, to see him looking very uncomfortable.

“It was good meeting you both,” Susumu nods, obviously ready to take his leave.

“Hinata-” Naruto interrupts.

She turns to look at him, bewildered and upset by his inexcusable behavior. She knows Naruto can be obtuse, but his stance and attitude are completely uncalled for.

Naruto twitches a grimace, likely a reaction to her own hostile glare, and turns away. His hand swings up behind his head, scratching at his neck. “Tch, nevermind.”

She has no idea what to make of it, and she almost feels bad for Rumi, who looks like she really wants to say sorry, to ask for pardon on behalf of her boyfriend.

But Hinata has never let Naruto be anything less than what she expects from him. She knows his faults, she understands his weaknesses, but this? Something like this is not one of them. 

She puts both hands on Susumu’s arm, a measure of defense for him and for her own pride. She smiles as politely as she knows how and switches her speech to keigo. “We _apologize_ for being _such_ a _terrible_ bother. _Please_ excuse us.”*

As she turns Susumu away, she catches Rumi looking like she could die from embarrassment. She refuses to glance back at Naruto, but she hopes her words hit him as hard as a slap. 

Because she has _never_ talked that way to him before.

They sit down, and Hinata knows that she should apologize for Naruto’s behavior, give some type of excuse, or express her own mortification over the matter, but she has nothing. She suddenly feels blank inside. Wiped empty.

She realizes she’s on _just_ this side of crying.

“Hinata. It’s okay.” Susumu’s low tones quietly comfort her.

She shakes her head slightly. He shouldn’t be the one to comfort her. She lets out a long breath and looks up. “Are you okay?”

He shrugs and slightly frowns as if to shake off the incident. “Yeah.”

“I...I don’t know…what-” she starts.

“Hinata, it’s okay,” he repeats. “We shook hands.”

She tilts her head in a question. Because that was exactly when Naruto exerted the most intent.

“He’s just jealous.” Susumu smiles smugly. “Because I have such a beautiful girlfriend.”

A thick rock pounds her gut. “Wha- no. Susumu-kun, it’s not like that. He doesn’t-” She’s about to cry. She feels the rims of her eyes heating up.

“You don’t know how other men look at you, Hinata,” Susumu says seriously, smile vanishing. 

She shakes her head, forcing herself to calm down. “Naruto-kun doesn’t-” She stops and switches route, unable to voice her heart’s greatest pain. “He’s been with Rumi-san for a long time now.”

Susumu shrugs again. “I know what I felt.” He sits back. “And saw,” he adds with an expression of slight contemplation. He suddenly sits up straight again, turning his head toward their table.

“Susumu-kun,” she pleads. She refuses to look their way. _Stop, stop, stop..._

He turns toward her again and sees how unhappy she is. “Sorry.” He takes a deep breath. “I’m not good with social confrontation. The longer I think about it, the more I…” His expression hardens.

“Susumu-kun,” she whispers.

He nods, taking another breath. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to fight him.” It’s unspoken that he would lose. “I just wish I’d said something earlier now.”

Hinata disagrees. “I’m glad that you didn’t say anything.”

He looks directly at her, and then casts his eyes down. He seems to be thinking about a lot, his jaw working. Finally, he sighs. “I’ll just forget about it...you’re with me, anyway.” He shines another self-satisfied smile at her. He puts his hand out on the table, and she finds herself reaching for it.

She nods once, humming an agreement she doesn’t really feel as their hands fold together. She focuses her gaze on his, willing herself to feel a spark, a hint of attraction to burn the eclipse inside her away.

Coughing erupts from _that_ side of the restaurant, Rumi’s worried voice calling _his_ name, and her attention is pulled over to see him running toward the bathroom, Rumi following.

It’s not her place to worry for him anymore. But the alarm feels almost instinctual. 

Murmurings rise from all the patrons, Susumu’s among them. “Woah, sounded like he’s sick.”

She nods.

Their food comes, and it takes all of her concentration to focus on her date.

Eventually Naruto emerges from the bathroom, reuniting with a very worried Rumi, and Hinata can’t stop herself from looking to see if he’s okay.

He looks dead-straight at her, and then turns his gaze away.

They leave shortly after.

She should feel like she can breathe easier. She should be enjoying Susumu’s birthday. She should be trying harder for her boyfriend.

She should…

She shouldn’t feel like she’s wronged Naruto.

When Susumu carefully pulls her into a hug, whispering an earnest “thank you” for the gloves, outside of the Hyuuga compound, she shouldn’t feel like she’s betraying _him_.

But his reaction to meeting Susumu...her harsh words in reply...she feels now that she somehow chose Susumu over him. And that’s not how this was supposed to go.

She wasn’t supposed to lose her friendship with him, even though she’s been avoiding him--that was just a temporary measure. To get over him.

Why does she feel like she’s let him down?

“You okay?”

She nods.

“I’m sorry about what happened in the restaurant.”

She hums a disagreement. “It wasn’t your fault.” It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t her own fault. But she has no idea why Naruto acted that way, and why she feels so guilty as a result.

“I still had a great night,” he murmurs.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad. Happy birthday, Susumu-kun.” She smiles, ready to bid him a good night, ready to leave and hide herself in her room.

He gazes at her, warmth filling his expression. “You’re really beautiful, you know that?”

She averts her eyes, training it on the ground. She shakes her head. “Don’t say things like that…” She can feel him watching her, waiting for her to meet his gaze, but she won’t. She can’t. It scares her when he compliments her that way. As if he really…

He takes her hand, squeezing it. “Thank you for tonight.”

It’s safe for her to look up again.

As soon as she does, though, he leans forward and presses his lips to her bangs, the heat of his breath on her forehead lingering even as he pulls back. He lets go of her hand and steps a bit away, a shy grin on. “Good night, Hinata.”

She tries to not look as shocked as she feels, instead returning his smile as best she can. “Good night, Susumu-kun.”

She lays in her bed, curled up.

She doesn’t understand herself.

Susumu is a great man. Even she can tell that he’s good-looking, distinctively good features of the Sarutobi clan. He's capable. Most of all sweet. His level-headedness is something to admire.

So what is it that she doesn’t like about him?

Somehow...he’s just not…

She halts her thinking there. No good will come of thinking about what he isn’t. 

She _wants_ to fall in love with him. When? Why won’t she fall for him? What’s wrong with her? What is she waiting for?

She might never meet anyone good like him again. She knows that there’s a lot of guys out there who are disrespectful, who are impatient, who are reckless and rude and-

That’s not what she wants.

That’s _not_ _who_ she wants.

_That’s not who I want!_

She tells her heart so over and over. 

It wasn't meant to be anyway. And with today.

The way she snapped at him.

Naruto never deserved that from her.

*

Susumu unexpectedly calls on her the next day, asking her if she’s available to go out with him for a bit. “I missed you,” he says, and it gnaws on her conscience. 

They take a walk toward the park, making their way up the stairs to the next grassy platform.

“We’ve been dating for over two months now, and I haven’t been seeing anyone else.” He stops when they reach the walkway, then leads her toward a bench.

“I haven’t, either,” she replies. She knows that he has a little dating history. 

He had a girlfriend for a brief time after the war. They broke up when he realized he didn’t like her anymore. He also dated a bit after that, but he said they never turned into anything serious.

She realizes two months of dating might be a little serious, that his attempts at flirting with her were possibly more than just flirting. She can’t look at him.

But he calls her name. “Hinata.”

She meets his watching gaze.

“What you did for me yesterday...thank you...and I'm sorry. I don't want to come between you and your friends."

"Oh no, Susumu-kun. You aren't... Don't worry." She gives him a small smile. "It'll be alright." So she convinced herself last night. She has no other way to accept her current circumstances. She _has_ to believe she'll be alright with Naruto. If not now, some time in the future.

"After last night..and what you did for me...I thought about us...and...I’ve come to really like you.” He pauses, searching her expression. “But I know that you don’t really feel the same way.” 

She can’t stop her eyes from widening.

He continues, his voice somehow still steady despite his declaration. “I don’t want us to keep dating if this won’t lead anywhere.”

“Susu-”

“I wanted to make my feelings clear. That I like you, and I might...be getting serious. And I don’t want to get hurt. So if you don’t see _us_ going anywhere, then...”

Inside, she knows. She knows. She knows, she knows, she knows, she _knows_.

“I’m willing to go as slow as you want. I don’t mind it at all. I’m willing to wait. Because I think we could really be something...But only if you think you can see it, too.”

She goes back to her list of his good qualities. He’s kind, intelligent, discerning, cool-headed, patient. She _knows_ that they could be something. If only she could feel it. “Susumu-kun…”

“Ahh, actually, wait.” He covers his face, then runs his hands through the dark of his hair. “Can you give me one more week? Think about it...and then you can tell me what you think?”

He looks hurt already, even though she didn’t say anything. Or _because_ she didn’t say anything. She nods.

****

The lines of her form drift into his view, right over Rumi’s shoulder.

Her hair is _up_.

She’s smiling, until she looks straight at him.

No hello, no nod of recognition. If anything, she looks like she saw a ghost.

But he’s not a ghost. It perplexes him when she simply looks away, turning her attention to…

The man turns, making eye contact. _It’s the same guy_.

“Is something there?” Rumi asks, turning her head to her shoulder.

“Uh..no…” He looks down at his food, but his mind is far from it, leaping through the past few months, coming to the only conclusion. 

Hinata’s purposely ignoring him. Avoiding him.

And it leaves a cold tightness in his chest.

He never did anything wrong to her, as far as he can remember. He knows that he’s not the smartest guy around, but the last time he spoke with her, he thought it was fine. She told him a little about her mission to apprehend some counterfeit currency producers. It was a successful mission, and he congratulated her on it. 

The last time he _really_ got to hang out with her was before Rumi. Everyone else was busy, but Hinata wasn’t. It felt like they were eating ramen for _hours_ just catching up, just joking, just having a good time.

She’s always been one of his closest comrades.

After the war, after everything they’d been through, he assumed she was a friend for life. Someone he could count on.

That’s just who she is. Dependable.

Someone who can give it to him straight when he messes up, but still in her Hinata-way, non-violently.

So _this_? This is just not right.

He can’t stop himself from looking her way again.

She looks fine. She looks more than fine. She looks great.

So there’s nothing wrong with _her_.

But _that guy_.

Who’s to say that guy isn’t manipulating her or selfishly keeping her. That guy is the only change around her, the only variable that would affect her behavior so suddenly.

It’s so upsetting. That Hinata would act this way. That she’s letting herself be tarnished by this older guy. That she doesn’t seem to mind, that she doesn’t even seem to notice, that she doesn’t seem to _care_.

The sushi tastes bland in his mouth. And it’s hard to swallow.

He looks up again.

Hinata’s eyes never glance in his direction, even though she’s looking at the waitress.

It’s been awhile since he felt this irritated.

_What’s wrong with her?_

The subjects of his frustration start heading his way.

He hates how easygoing the guy looks. Because he just _knows_ that it’s a facade.

Hinata comes right up to their table, looking nicer than he’s ever seen her, a fake smile on. The combination all kinds of _wrong._ “Hello, Rumi-san, Naruto-kun.”

He sits there, trying to figure out _what the fuck_ is going on.

That’s when he realizes they’re all standing up. He gets up. It’s a shot of satisfaction to see that he’s probably a little taller than this guy.

“I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Sarutobi Susumu-kun.” Hinata’s hand fits against the guy’s elbow, her pale eyes turn up toward him.

He hates it. The affection in the gesture, in the way she called that guy, is completely misplaced. Because her expression is all fake.

Hinata turns to look at him, and he can verify it. There’s no warmth in her expression by being with this guy.

He glances at her boyfriend. “Hello.”

“Sorry if we’re interrupting your dinner.” So the guy can speak. Naruto can already tell that this guy doesn’t have what it takes to keep up with Hinata.

“No, you’re not,” Rumi says.

“Yeah, no, it’s good to meet you.” It’s good to see that he was right all along. Hinata shouldn’t date. He stretches his hand out, and the guy takes it in a grip too confident for someone who doesn’t deserve her. _Who does he think he is?_ This guy gets a little special attention from Hinata, and he thinks he’s good enough for her? Fuck no.

The guy lets go first. “It was good meeting you both,” he says, as if to end this meeting.

But Naruto can’t let them get away so quick. She needs to at least somehow see that she’s making a mistake. “Hinata-”

She immediately responds. A glare that mars and twists her serene features.

 _Does she really_ want _to be with this guy?_ He looks away, unable to see that expression corrupting her image. “Tch, nevermind.”

He glances back at her to see her face relaxed once more, centered on Rumi, and he realizes that glare really, really, really _was_ meant _just_ for him. It’s an incomprehensible, heavy weight in his chest. 

She’s never looked at him like that before.

Her hands go up to touch that guy’s arm again, and his eyes follow how her fingers rest on his muscles. “We _apologize_ for being _such_ a _terrible_ bother. _Please_ excuse us.”

He jerks a stare up at her, eyes wide in shock.

But she smiles at Rumi as if her words didn’t just raise a wall between them, didn’t just shove him so hard that he can feel it in his ribs. 

She doesn’t even notice.

“Naruto-kun...wha-... Do you know Susumu-san?” Rumi’s voice drifts to him through the sounds of a void in his ears. “Is he a bad person?”

He’s somehow sitting again. “What…” he murmurs.

“Why did you act that way to Susumu-san?” Rumi rephrases, but he wasn’t talking to her.

He finally looks up at Rumi, who looks extremely troubled. “What did _I_ do?” he asks her. “ _She_ was the one!” Each word feels forced out.

Rumi looks at him, confused. “...Naruto-kun...no... You...you were being _very_ rude to them,” she says quietly.

He can’t stop his gaze from sliding back toward Hinata. He shakes his head. She’s the one who’s been cutting him off.

“Do you know Susumu-san?” Rumi asks again.

“No.” He shakes his head, grimacing at seeing how he leans toward her over the table. He’s the reason why she’s acting so distant, and that’s all the fuck he needs to know about him.

“Naruto-kun.”

He brings his attention back to his girlfriend, who’s being really annoying about all of this. “If you don’t know him..then...why...did you do that?”

“Do what?” he asks impatiently.

Rumi blinks at him, as if she’s trying to figure him out, and Naruto doesn’t get why she always seems to be searching him for something. She frowns, her brows furrowing, but she doesn’t say anything else.

They sit quietly, finishing their orders, but he feels _so agitated_ , his legs and arms sore from unreleased tension. His gaze flicks back to them, to see that guy appear to be turning back to Hinata. 

_What’s he looking over here for?!_

Hinata doesn’t spare a glance his way, like she really doesn’t care at all about how she treated him.

He feels something sharp aggravating the bottom of his throat, and he tries to clear it away.

Hinata and that guy hold hands, gazing at each other.

It gets worse, like something is scratching its way up his throat.

He coughs, swallows, tries to keep himself from getting sick, but it’s no use. He can feel it pushing upward, blocking his windpipe, his stomach tightening, about to lurch. 

He sprints to the bathroom, slamming the door open, acid filling his mouth, barely making it to the toilet.

He chokes around his vomit, hacking out his sickness. He feels that sticky paper sliding out of his throat, curving to his tongue and the sides of his mouth. He works his tongue, grimacing at the feeling, beginning to panic at the sensation.

He manages to spit three long, whitish pieces, the same form as that other night.

“Uggghhhh what is that?!” he groans in disgust at the sight. He spits out excess gunk, flushes the toilet, and washes his mouth out. 

He has no idea what it could be. If anything, his diet is better than it ever was before with the way Rumi enjoys checking out new restaurants. It must be a sign that his stomach was never meant for anything other than ramen.

He rinses his mouth a few more times before leaving the bathroom.

It’s amazing how much better he feels. 

“Are you okay? You got sick again?” Rumi asks him, complete concern lining her expression.

“Sorry. I’m fine now. I just had to get it out of my system.”

“You should have told me you were still feeling sick,” she says worriedly.

“I only just-” He feels _her_ gaze. He looks up to see her... _finally_ paying attention to him.

She suddenly looks like the Hinata he knows again. The one who cares about him. 

“Naruto-kun, let’s just pay the check and go…”

He doesn’t understand what’s going on with Hinata. He turns away from her and nods to Rumi.

They leave quickly.

Rumi keeps asking him if he’s okay. If he’s _really_ okay. If he doesn’t feel sick anymore. If that’s why he was acting so strangely in the restaurant to Hinata-san and Susumu-san.

“Rumi. I just didn’t like that guy,” he finally states.

She’s quiet for a moment as they walk back to her house. “...Why?”

“He seemed fake or something. I don’t know.”

She’s silent for longer. “...What made you think that?”

He searches his memory, knowing that just saying he _looked_ fake wouldn’t be the best thing to say to defend his opinion. “It was Hinata. She wasn’t happy with him.”

“She looked happy enough until you threatened him.”

“She wasn’t happy, I could tell she was pretending. When she’s really happy she doesn’t look like plastic. I don’t get why she’s with that guy if he’s not making her happy. Plus that guy wasn’t even anything, I could tell just by looking at him that he’s not good enough for her. Hinata knows it, too, I bet that’s why she got so mad when I tried to point it out to her, I don’t know why she’d even defend a guy like that. It’s so stupid.”

“...So you knew that you threatened him.”

“Hm? I don’t know I just didn’t like that he was acting all great.”

She stops walking in pace with him.

He pauses and turns to look back at her. When she doesn’t explain her sudden stop, he calls her name, “Rumi?”

She looks up at him, brows furrowed, mouth turned down in a deep frown. “You knew what you were doing?”

“I mean-” He shrugs. “The guy needed to back off.”

“‘The guy.’ His name is Susumu-san! Why…” She suddenly turns her face down at the ground. “You never met him before...you don’t know what he’s really like… You’re the strongest shinobi in the village!”**

He stares at her downturned head, confused by the direction of her thoughts.

She looks up again. “You challenged him! Why would you challenge him?!”

“I already explained-”

“You can’t just do that to people you just met! You know that, right? You don’t just threaten people you’ve never met before for no reason! It’s strange!” Her voice is unreasonably stressed. “You were strange tonight, Naruto-kun!”

“Calm down-”

“No! You acted like that, and it was so embarrassing! For me! For _me_! You have _me_! Why would you threaten _Hinata-san_ ’s boyfriend? Why do you care so much...She looked fine! Susumu-san was normal! They were both normal! It was only _you_! _You_ were acting...acting weird!”

He realizes she’s about to cry. And he has no idea why. “Hey, don’t cr-”

“Don’t touch me! You don’t get it! You don’t...you don’t get it…you have _me_ , Naruto-kun...you shouldn’t...why would you…” She covers her face in her hands, and her body shudders.

He’s never made a girl cry before. He’s seen Ino and Sakura cry over Sasuke. Because Sasuke’s a real, one-of-a-kind asshole. But he himself was never the asshole. “Rumi…”

She starts walking away at a fast pace.

He doesn’t know what to do. “Rumi...hey, hey,” he tries to murmur as soothingly as he can, jogging to catch up with her. “I’m sorry, Rumi…”

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for,” she mutters through her tears.

“I embarrassed you in the restaurant! I’m sorry!” he tries as sincerely as possible.

“No!”

“I threatened that guy, and I shouldn’t have...I’m really sorry…”

“NO! No, no! You don’t get it!” she practically yells in frustration, and he’s thankful that they’re at least in the residential area now, not causing a scene in the middle of the village center.

“Rumi, I’m really sorry, I know I’m stupid…”

“Noo, no, Naruto-kun, no! Why…” She looks at him with that searching expression again. “It feels like you don’t…” New tears start racing down her cheeks.

He feels bad. Terrible. 

She’s crying about _something_. Obviously something important to her, and he just doesn’t get it. 

“Rumi…” He reaches for her, pulling her close, and she lets him.

She cries hard into his jacket, and he murmurs apologies over and over. 

He means it. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s apologizing for, he would never want to make her cry.

“I love you, Naruto-kun,” she gasps into his chest. “I love you, you know.”

He holds her tighter. “I really am sorry, Rumi, I would never want to make you cry. I would never want to hurt you. I’ll try harder. I want to be a better boyfriend. I want us to be happy. I never want to make you sad.”

She wraps her arms around his middle and squeezes, her face still hidden in his jacket. “...You mean that?”

“Yeah, of course,” he soothes. “You’re my girlfriend, right? You’ve been putting up with me for over three months. I know that’s not easy. Rumi, you’re the most important to me.” 

She calms in his arms, squeezing him, and he’s glad that it seems he said the right thing for once. “...Let’s go to your place,” she murmurs.

“What about your curfew?”

“...I’ll tell them I had an urgent mission.”

He can feel his pulse rising at the implication, his body suddenly more aware of hers pressed against him. “Okay.”

They walk silently back to his place, and when they get there, he cleans his mouth until he’s certain there’s no lingering taste.

He joins her on his couch, taking a moment to admire her shining eyes. 

“Naruto-kun,” she whispers.

“Yeah?”

“Come closer.”

The invitation makes his blood pump hot in his veins. He kisses her, and she sighs, a sound that makes him blush. 

Her little noises wake his whole body up as the kiss deepens, as she lays down beneath him. 

He can feel that familiar fire consuming him, burning in his mind, his hands, his groin, an intolerable ache to touch her until she lets him in. His fingers find the end of her dress, and he pushes the material up until he can feel the warm skin of her stomach, her hips.

She squirms under his hand.

A girl’s body is a mysterious, enticing thing.

His touch on her a kind of magic, a kind of power he didn’t know he could have on another person. It’s of a significance that he can’t ignore, a calling that he can only instinctually respond to.

His fingers graze at the lining of her panties, gentle against her skin, and her hips wiggle in response.

It makes him gasp into her lips, adrenaline pound through his body. “Rumi…” he groans.

“Naruto-kun?” Her voice is breathy around his name.

Everything about her is turning him on. “Please…”

She’s letting out large breaths, and he wonders if this is where they stop. She hums a short agreement. “Let’s go to your bed,” she whispers.

He’s stiff. He doesn’t think he’s ever been this hard before. He helps her up, and they head to his room.

She unzips her dress, steps out of her underwear, her bra falling to the floor.

He approaches her, equally bare, and he engages her in another kiss. He lets his excitement press against her.

Her body is so warm. It promises a warmth he’s never known before.

“I-It’s my first time,” she murmurs.

“Mine, too.” He continues kissing her, rubbing himself against her a little more.

“I-I’m a little scared.”

Her words clear a little of the haze in his mind. “Don’t be scared.”

She looks up at him, her eyes searching his once more.

She does that a lot recently. It reminds him of earlier, of her crying and how he somehow messed up in the restaurant, the memory putting a damper on his mood. “Rumi?”

“You make me happy, you know that, Naruto-kun?”

He continues watching her, wondering what’s on her mind.

“Do I make you happy?” she asks.

“Of course you do.”

“Do you...do you love me?”

This question again. Like last week. “Yeah. I love you.”

She hugs him, squeezing him close. “Say it again, please,” she whispers.

He wonders why she seems so stuck on this. “I love you.”

“Again. Please.”

If this is something couples usually say to each other. “I love you.” He wouldn't know.

“One more time?” she breathes.

Do that guy and Hinata say things like this to each other? “...I love you, Rumi.”

"I love you, Naruto-kun." Rumi reaches for him, her hands coming around his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss.

A memory of _them_ holding hands on the table in the restaurant, gazing at each other, rises to his minds-eye. _Do they do things like this together?_ That guy holding her tightly at the waist, the two in a passionate kiss.

The image turns his gut. And just as suddenly-

He feels sick.

He steps back from Rumi, hand at his mouth. 

His chest heaves up.

He turns away.

He doesn’t know if he’ll make it.

He somehow gets to his bathroom sink, emptying the contents of his mouth forcefully.

White slips unfurl one after the other, much quicker than the last time, sliding out in stomach acid and spit.

He leans against the counter, panting heavily, eyes closed to catch his breath. “Fuck…” He knows now that something is wrong with him.

“Naruto-kun, are you okay?” She sounds panicked.

He doesn’t even know what to say. He ruined the mood again. He vomited out some kind of unknown substance again. He definitely isn’t alright. He knows that for sure now.

He weakly stands straighter.

“Wha...What is that?” Rumi asks.

“I don’t know.”

“Did you eat something?”

He shakes his head. “Not that I know of.”

She stares at his mess for longer. “...It’s been like this?”

“...Yeah...it wasn’t this much before though…" Five long pieces. "It’s getting worse.”

She turns to him. “You should go to the hospital!”

He knows she’s right, but… “I hate the hospital.”

“You’re really sick! This is the third time, isn’t it?”

“Yeah… I’ll go in the morning.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious...This is really…” She looks at his sink.

He starts rinsing the mess away.

“What _is_ that?” she asks again, sounding more grossed out than before.

“I don’t know…” he repeats.

“Show those things to the medic tomorrow!” she exclaims in worry.

He nods, turning to look at her.

She’s still naked.

Unbidden, his eyes travel over her bare, shining skin.

She blushes and frowns, turning away. “Y-you need to get better.” She retreats from the bathroom, probably to get dressed.

He sighs, washing the gunk off the paper-like objects. He was so close. “Are you going to leave?” he calls out disappointedly.

She appears in the doorway, clothed. “...I think my parents will be mad…”

Vaguely he remembers that she was going to give an excuse, but he doesn’t bring it up. If she wants to go, then she can. After all, he just vomited right before they were going to do it. Who wouldn’t be disgusted?

Her eyes widen. “Do you need my help?”

“No. I mean, I feel fine…”

She looks at him like she doesn’t believe him. 

“Really. All these times, it felt so sudden. I don’t know what’s causing this.”

“...Drink a lot of water, okay? And get a lot of rest. Go to the hospital tomorrow.” She comes in and carefully hugs him.

He smiles a little. “Have a good night, Rumi.”

She nods and pulls away. She focuses her gaze on him again. 

And again, he wonders why she’s always staring at him like that. This time, he turns away.

“Good night, Naruto-kun.”

“Good night, Rumi.”

He leaves the unknown stomach substance on the counter to dry, the slips lined up, ready for sealing in a scroll later.

He thinks about how close he was to finally doing it with Rumi.

After two months of kissing and heavy petting, he’s really ready for more with her. She teases him relentlessly.

This sickness has the worst timing.

If not for that, he’d be doing her right now on his bed.

He sits down on his toilet, touching himself back to hardness, thinking about her naked body. He’s done this on a couple other occasions, feeling a little guilty afterwards, but this time, he really needs the release.

He imagines touching her, pressing against her, putting it inside her.

She seems so innocent when she makes those sounds, yet at the same time, so seductive. He would have never thought that she could make sounds like that.

Girls are really mysterious, different, amazing.

Are they all like Rumi? Teasing? Innocent? Seductive?

He never thought Rumi could be like that. So sexy and irresistible. The way she calls his name when she gets excited, too. A breathy “Naruto-kun.”

He closes his eyes and rubs himself harder, imagining pushing into her, her breath and voice at his ear.

_“Naruto-kun…”_

His breathing gets heavier, imagining a soft body to hold him.

_“Oh, Naruto-kun…”_

He loves that. It’s so cute.

She always sounds like that. She always sounds a little out of breath.

His eyes fly open. _Hinata?!_

He stops rubbing himself, but he can’t ignore the pulsing of his member at the thought of her voice. He touches himself again, a shot of ecstasy skating through him.

He stops. It’s wrong. He can’t think of Hinata that way. She’s too pure. She’s too good. She’s not like that. _She’s not like that_.

No way is she like that. 

Not Hinata. 

She wouldn’t make sounds like that. She wouldn’t say his name like that.

She wouldn’t sound like that. She wouldn’t look like that. 

He closes his eyes, trying to erase the images in his mind.

She _shouldn’t_ look like that.

It’s not okay for him to wonder if she _can_ be like that.

She _can’t_ be like that.

Because she’s Hinata, and…

_Does she and that guy… Does he make her..._

Images develop through his mind.

He’s gonna be sick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hoped these things were implied in my storytelling, or that these things are generally common knowledge here, but if not:
> 
> *keigo - Japanese formal language, different words and conjugations. Using keigo with friends is really shocking, like you're treating them as total strangers. A very cold move.
> 
> **that guy - extremely, extremely, super disrespectful (think "aitsu"). Naruto's consistent use of "that guy," not once saying "Susumu-san," shows that he's looking down on him with contempt, even someone older than him, refusing to acknowledge Susumu's name. Alarming behavior.
> 
> I hope I wrote this chapter well enough that every single character's feelings made complete sense. If you have any questions about what's going on...then please let me know...phrased nicely (I'm sensitive)  
> 
> 
> Thank you to all of you who encouraged me last chapter to keep writing. You guys know I hate angst, but here I am, like what am I doing here haha.  
> Thank you for reading :)


	3. Weeds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a month since I updated O_O I'm sorry. But, this chapter is 31 pages long, so, I hope that sorta makes up for the wait.  
> I edited tons. I could definitely edit it more.  
> It's been a bit of pressure seeing so many views on this story, not gonna lie, that makes me hesitant to add on... Like NaruHina stories on ao3 NEVER get this kind of attention!!
> 
> But the views are actually allllllllllll thanks to Jupitrie's / PeppercornPress's BEAUTIFUL, GORGEOUS, AMAZING, STUNNING, WONDERFUL art she created for this story!!!!!!!! AHHHHHH. I look at it everyday, I think about it while I write, it is the best angst fuel. IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN IT, YOU ABSOLUTELY MUST.  
> https://jupitrieart.tumblr.com/post/186546264894/inspired-by-white-lilies-narutodaysdays8
> 
> There is the link!!!! You will be astounded!! Hinata is soooo pretty, like SOOO pretty. You'll be like, oh, dang, no wonder the men are falling over her.  
> Follow jupitrie on Tumblr for more art!! Find PeppercornPress here on ao3 because her NaruHina fics are fantastic, too!!!  
> Thank you jupitrie for your art TT.TT 
> 
> Phew. Internally screaming that much is exhausting lol
> 
> Please enjoy all 31 pages of angst :) Oh wait, warning, it gets worse. Heed the tags. Prepare your heart if you're an NH lover :(

Memories from that day replay over and over. 

Each time fills her with remorse.

She could have responded to Naruto in so many different ways. “What are you doing?” “What’s wrong?” “Maybe another time.” Or just, “We’re sorry for bothering you.” 

She didn’t have to get so upset.

Yet she can still justify herself. She knows _why_ she was so upset. It just felt so unfair.

She was perfectly friendly to Rumi. She could have been hostile. She could have snubbed Rumi.

But why did _Naruto_ do that?

She refuses to believe Susumu. That would tear her apart.

Really, why did Naruto _do_ that?

It’s not fair.

But he still didn’t deserve that from her. Even though she doesn’t want to be just a friend, Naruto has always been a good friend to her. He has always listened to her, always taken the time to encourage her, always been her inspiration.

Unable to take the guilt, she readies herself to talk to him. She’ll apologize. She’ll be a good friend. She can be a great friend to him.

She knows she can get used to it.

She _has_ to get used to it.

She needs to be okay with him.

It’s easy to find him. He’s right at the bottom of his apartment, and based off of his gait, he doesn’t seem to be in a real rush.

She makes her way to him, eventually jumping down before him. 

He stops and stares at her.

It’s gut-wrenching to see him looking at her so warily.

She takes a few shallow breaths to gather herself together. “...Naruto-kun,” she starts. “Do you have a moment?”

He blinks. Then nods slightly.

She steps a little closer, and she’s glad that he doesn’t angle away from her.

His expression is guarded, but his body language shows that he’s still open to hear what she has to say.

“...For the other night, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have talked to you that way. You’re a good friend to me, and I know you must have had a reason. Please accept my apology.” She bows, hoping that he sees how sincere she is.

“Hinata,” he calls, and she doesn’t miss how there’s a force behind it, as if he’s remorseful, too.

She raises her head, hoping for an explanation, any explanation at all that would erase Susumu’s words.

But he’s not looking at her. He’s looking somewhere over her, his gaze conflicted, his expression troubled.

“Naruto-kun?”

His gaze slowly settles back down on her. “...Do you...really..like that guy?”

“Susumu-kun?” she clarifies, noting that Naruto really, for some reason, doesn’t like her boyfriend.

“Yeah. Susumu,” he responds shortly.

The question and the answer she knows she has to say hurt so much more in front of him. She’s never felt more acutely than now that...she’s lying. But this, too, is a step in moving on, right? “I like him,” she says quietly. “He’s nice to me.”

Naruto returns to staring at her, directly into her eyes. He can see right through her, she knows. “...He’s nice to you?” His voice is almost as small as a whisper.

“Yes.” She can tell that he doesn’t believe her. Perhaps Naruto was just being protective. “He is. He’s almost too nice.”

He looks away, his eyes turn down to the ground. “...You really like him?” he repeats, and suddenly, he’s staring at her again, piercingly steady.

She feels it. The way he’s watching her, solely focused on her with azure eyes that can pick her apart, turn every piece of her over and leave no place untouched. Search the very truth of her heart…

And then she realizes it.

He could always see her love for him. He just...never responded to it.

She turns her gaze down, not knowing what to say. He knew? He knew and just… _Why._ A question for everything. Why won’t he let her try to move on?

“But you want to be with him,” he states, voice low.

She sees that she doesn’t even have to answer, and he already knows what she means in her silence. If Naruto knows her love for him, if he has always known, if he knew he could never return her feelings, then why does _he_ sound unhappy?

“...I need to try, Naruto-kun,” she manages to reply, her throat closing up. Were introducing her to his girlfriends, was it all just a nice way for him to reject her? 

He stays silent for a long while, and she can see his feet shifting, feel his eyes trained on the top of her head.

And then he’s not there anymore.

She looks up.

He’s gone.

She lets tears fill her eyes then, and she quickly returns home.

*

Throughout the week, she reflects on their conversation, feeling for once, a bit of closure.

Naruto has said it before to her. That he can see her emotions in her eyes. How could that not include her love for him?

He never addressed her feelings, and that’s probably because he didn’t know how to reject her. She thought maybe he forgot or didn’t notice.

Things make a lot more sense to her now.

Why he always treated her differently. Why he was always nicer to her compared to everyone else. Why he seemed to always take the time to talk to her, compliment her, encourage her.

He just didn’t want to hurt her.

He didn’t mean to give her hope.

And with that mentality, he probably was just overprotective concerning Susumu.

Naruto really is kind.

She’s glad she apologized.

She’s glad he never rejected her outright. How much more would it hurt to hear those words of rejection?

And she’s definitely glad she never forced her feelings on him, never gave him that scarf.

She takes the gift out of her lowest drawer and smoothes her hand over the stitches. Each one a prayer from her heart. Each one a fervent wish that he might accept her feelings.

To put something so heavy with the weight of her love in his hands, around his neck, when he never wanted it...that would just be a burden. 

She clenches her fingers into the soft, red yarns.

She cries, not caring as her tears fall wet on the threads.

She promises herself that this is the last time.

The very _last_ time she’ll cry over him.

When she puts it away in her closet, wrapped and sealed carefully in tissue in a box of mothballs, she thinks maybe...maybe she can finally move on.

*

For their date, Susumu suggested a spar.

She thinks he must have a knack for good timing. She’s felt a numbness throughout since she put her childhood love away, and the kick of adrenaline in a friendly match may be exactly what she needs to make her feel alive again. Facing off against a mid- to long-range fighter would present a much needed change of pace and challenge to take her mind off of other things.

They face off at the fourth training ground, one of her favorites for its fairly small lake closely surrounded by trees, perfect for chakra control exercises. It was his suggestion as a fire-style user, to keep possibilities of burn injuries and general destruction as low as possible. She accepted, considering it fair enough since she doesn’t have any water affinity.

“What are the guidelines?” he asks, again letting her make the final calls. She knows it’s to be chivalrous. It irks her just a little.

“We have to stay on the water or in the trees. It’s an automatic loss if you fall in the water or on the ground.”

“No weapons?” he suggests.

“No weapons,” she agrees.

They separate to place themselves on opposite sides of the lake. A single step on the water signals the start.

She doesn’t waste any time trying to close the distance between them. She runs, letting her agility catch him off-guard.

As she expected, he immediately jumps up into an overhanging tree and releases a blast of fire her way, forcing her to stop and guard herself with her Shugohakke.

The onslaught of fire eventually dissipates, clearing, revealing him standing on the tree, seemingly waiting for her to make the next move, even though he has the tactical advantage.

“You’re going easy on me,” she accuses him, though she also knows that he’s just trying to get a feel for her.

“So are you,” he says, tapping below his temple.

She smiles at that. “Byakugan. Mizuhari.” She pulses chakra out of her, upsetting the water. She molds her chakra around the drops, forming them into projections as sharp as senbon.

He clears the initial onslaught with fire, the steam blinding him for a second.

She sends more his way, forcing him to jump back onto the water, and she doesn’t let up. 

In a show of daring, he stops his fleeing to face her, hands flying through signs. A giant dragon of flames twists into being, eating through the water senbon, and she knows now that he’s taking her a little more seriously.

She’s forced to somersault back, costing her some dearly earned meters, and she dissipates the dragon in her Shugohakke once more. Embers fall to the lake, sending up trails of smoke before her. She doesn’t wait for it to clear, instead running ahead to gain back the distance.

But he back handsprings away, maintaining his advantage. “That technique of yours is bothersome,” he calls to her.

Her defensive technique of her design, impenetrable to all jutsu. “Did you expect me to be in the water by now?” she retorts.

He smiles as an answer, forming hand seals. Demon-shaped heads of blue fire appear around him, the very energy of the jutsu ominous. 

She knows now that he’s on the offensive. That only now they’re really getting started.

He sends the demons flying toward her.

She aerials around the heads of fire, yet they follow her closely, and she knows he’s purposely keeping her away from him. She knows that if this continues, she doesn’t stand a chance. She needs to get within taijutsu radius before she runs out of stamina. She lets the fire come close before spinning into a Kaiten to quickly dissipate them. With remnant fire still swirling around her, she re-concentrates her chakra to form around sharp water vortexes, and sends them spearing toward Susumu.

He skips back, quickly spitting out balls of fire to halt the path of the water senbon, and she takes advantage of the distraction.

As he’s right about to try to re-establish their distance, she manages to blast him with focused chakra from her palm.

The force throws him across the lake, but he extends his hand to the water, slowing himself until he can properly push off and back tuck to standing.

She smiles, proud that she got first hit, but she knows he’s not moving as quickly as he should be. His response times are slower than expected for a jounin. Plus, he has yet to use his earth techniques. _He’s still going easy on me._ She quickly chases after him as he skips backward, spewing fire at her. But she’s done with fighting him from afar.

She warps chakra around her fists into her signature lions, using them to shield her through the barrage of fire, and finally manages to close the distance. She swipes a fist toward him, the edges of her jutsu barely flowing over his skin, but it’s enough to siphon chakra from his arm.

A short groan escapes his throat. He presses his undamaged hand to the water, and suddenly, she’s hurtling up into the air upon a column of mud.

Before she can lose her balance, she jumps off the column.

Yet just as quickly, mud and rocks solidly knock her midair, sending her chest-first toward the water. 

She manages to catch herself one-handed, flipping right side up into a crouch. Pain blooms up her arm and side from the force of the blow that likely left her with bruises and scratches. She refocuses on him, but almost catches his hand signs too late.

Another dragon rises, this one made of mud and forest debris. He directs the monstrosity high above her, it’s mouth and eyes focused down at her. Then it falls, the full weight of it bearing directly on top of her. Its tail snakes around her.

She spins into the Kaiten, but this time, she realizes it’s too much for her. She can feel her grip on the water breaking, the mass of the dragon too much for her to balance while performing one of her clan’s most difficult techniques. Her feet dip into the water, and she knows it’s her loss. She allows herself to sink below into the lake, and the dragon, whatever is left of it, falls apart.

Globs of mud pelt through the surface. She swims back up, getting a good breath of air.

Susumu is already there offering her his hand.

Gratefully, she takes it and lets him pull her back to the surface.

Together they head to the shore and lean against a shady tree.

She notices that he’s just as out of breath as she is.

“You aren’t hurt, are you?” he asks, looking her over.

“I’m fine. What about you?” She nods at his stomach, where her Hakke Kuushou hit him.

“It’ll be alright.”

After a minute of rest, she brings up what was bothering her for the whole match. “You weren’t trying to seriously win until the very end.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You hardly touched me,” she mutters unhappily. “...And you were letting me hit you. I know you can move faster than that.”

His smile pulls down, a blush rises.

She furrows her brow at his strange expression. “I don’t need that much chance. Are you looking down on me?”

“Ah...no, no.” He shakes his head and denies quietly, rather than vehemently. It’s odd.

“What do you have to say for yourself then?” she asks in mock-seriousness and curiosity. She doesn’t like how the match went, but in the end, she still lost, so she can’t really be mad at him for going easy on her at the start.

He raises a hand to his mouth, his fingers rubbing at the redness on one cheek. His gaze averts as if thinking of a memory. “You were just really cool to watch.”

She blinks at him.

“I was a little distracted with watching you.” He looks at her apologetically. “It was unintentional. Please forgive me. In any future spars, I’ll try harder to focus.”

She can hear how sincere he is. His compliment, for the first time, makes her blush in embarrassment. Her eyes turn down. “From watching me?” she asks quietly.

“Yeah. Seeing you come out unharmed with flames falling around you, steam everywhere, was pretty..hot.”

Her jaw drops a little, and she gapes at him, embarrassment replaced by sudden discomposure. “Susumu-kun!” she scolds. She’s never been called “hot” in her life, and she doesn’t know how to feel about it. The adjective feels almost intrusive, invasive, definitely not suitable for someone like her. “Don’t say things like that!” She hugs herself and frowns, tempering the heat at her neck.

He just grins widely at her. A reaction she doesn’t like.

She covers her face, unable to handle seeing him looking at her, and sinks to the ground to kneeling. “Don’t ever say that again,” she murmurs through her hands.

She can sense him drop to sitting beside her. He sighs. “I’m being serious, Hinata. Fighting against the Byakugan is really something else...” When she doesn’t respond, he continues, “If I hadn’t given you that Dosekiryuu at the end, I would’ve had to engage with you in hand-to-hand combat. Even if I wasn’t running out of chakra, we both know how that would have turned out.”

She peeks at him from her hands with a question. _Is he implying that I would have won in taijutsu?_

“I saw your late cousin’s Hakke Rokujuuyon Shou before. There’s no evading it.”

She smiles slightly at the mention of Neji. She can still vividly remember his graceful, deadly power. She’s not sure if she’s caught up to him by now. Neji will always be one of her role models. “Well, you never know. You still might have won.”

He shakes his head.

They sit there for longer, listening to the breeze blow through the leaves above them. In each other’s quiet company, she can hear the birds chirping, the snap and whine of tree branches in the wind, the rustle of the undergrowth.

It’s so different from Naruto’s company...the easy conversation that could leap from random back-and-forth to Naruto’s endless, one-sided storytelling...and the easy laughter that surprised even herself...

She wants to move on.

Her heart still aches. Terribly.

And she knows Susumu deserves better. A good guy like him deserves someone better than her.

She turns her gaze toward him.

He’s staring at the grass, expression melancholy, and she can tell they both feel the change in the air between them.

“Susumu-kun?” she asks quietly.

He meets her gaze. His shoulders and chest rise and fall in a long, silent breath. “...What do you think, Hinata? About us.”

She wants to move on. But not like this. Not by using Susumu when he’s serious about her and she’s not. Not when she doesn’t feel any desire to touch him, to spend more time with him than her friends, to get to know him intimately. She’s just not attracted to him in that way.

How can she tell him that?

She swallows her nerves. She can’t be shy about this. He deserves her best. Even if it’s the end. “I like you as a friend.” Her voice is softer, heavier than she meant it. Sadder than she ever thought she would sound.

His expression remains unchanged. He nods slightly and averts his eyes.

She watches him, ready for any questions he might have. She doesn’t want to explain anything she doesn’t have to. She doesn’t want to rub her rejection in, not when he’s made his affection so clear to her.

He nods again, gaze on the ground. He slowly rises to standing, and she gets up, too. He faces her, and the despondency across his handsome features is hard to take in.

Hard to accept that she’s the cause of that.

Hard to realize that the end came so quickly.

“I enjoyed my time with you, Hinata.”

“I did, too.” _I’m sorry_. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she holds it in. “Susumu-kun…” She looks up at him earnestly, hoping that he’ll be receptive to what she does want to say. “Thank you for giving me a chance.” _I didn’t deserve you. You deserve better. I wish I fell for you. I wish we could be happy together. I hope you find someone perfect for you. Thank you for being my first._

His mouth twitches into something close to a smile, but not quite, before settling down once more. He takes her hands, rubbing his thumbs across her fingers, before letting her go. “Take care, Hinata.”

“You, too, Susumu-kun,” she quietly replies, realizing that she’ll never feel his hands again.

He nods a bit, a shadow cast over his face. “I’ll see you some other time.” He jumps into the trees and takes off back toward the village.

Her heart sits heavy in her chest. Her eyes burn. Her extremities feel weak. She doesn’t have the patience to sift through her feelings, so she lets them be.

Slowly she walks home.

*

She knows it was the right thing to do.

She knows, perhaps better than anyone, that being lead on, that thinking you have a chance, only to be disappointed, is more painful than anything. It’s a good thing that she broke up with Susumu, and that he had the foresight to talk to her.

Because if not…

She probably would have just kept dating him. Kept waiting for something to happen. Kept convincing herself that she would fall in love with him eventually.

Maybe that’s what Naruto thought, too, at first. That he might eventually feel something more for her, so he never rejected her. And well, she never really gave him a chance to properly turn her down. She never confessed again.

She can’t blame him for that.

It’s not his fault that she held onto him for so long.

It’s amazing that he still treated her as a good friend. Naruto really is so nice.

...Why can’t she stop thinking about him? 

Why does she still think about him so much?

*

She stares at herself in the mirror.

It’s been awhile since she felt this way. Like she’s too dark. Like her hair is too severe against her skin and eyes.

She’s always liked her hair color because she inherited it from her mother.

What if she grew out her bangs and gave herself a sharper image, like Hanabi’s?

She center-parts her bangs, then flips a section of hair over her head to give an impression of elongated bangs framing her face. She frowns. It still feels wrong for her to flaunt her forehead. Even if sealing was banned three years ago.

What if she got a haircut? Would that lighten her appearance?

She bends her hair up behind her head to get an idea, and turns her head this way and that. It’s hard to tell. She might just end up looking like her genin days, like a child.

But maybe it would make her look cuter, more cheerful, like Rumi.

She lets her hair fall straight and blinks at herself in disbelief.

What is she thinking?

Getting a haircut is like a classic sign of heartbreak. Everyone would ask her if something happened.

No one knows yet that she and Susumu broke up. Most everyone seems to know she’s trying to move on from Naruto.

She should talk to someone about everything that’s happened in the last week before she does something unexpected, like drastically change her hairstyle.

Before she can mortify herself any further, she forces herself to head to the hospital, to the one friend who understands her feelings better than anyone else.

*

Sakura told her she would be off-duty, but she looks anything but.

Deep in the archives with an assistant, scrolls and books sorted into piles for later perusal. Sakura is obviously still in work-mode, green eyes scanning shelves and shelves for titles of interest.

“Is this a bad time?” Hinata calls out.

The medic-nin looks over. “Ahhh, is it that late already?” She bites her lip as she eyes their mess, seemingly reluctant to leave her current occupation.

“We can do this another time,” she suggests.

“No,” Sakura answers quickly, curtly. “I didn’t forget about you, Hinata. I’ve been looking forward to this all day. I just lost track of the time. This can wait.” She dusts her hands off and turns to her assistant. “Then, Tomoko-chan, I’ll be leaving now. You should head home, too, since it’s getting late. We can keep looking tomorrow.”

The assistant shakes her head. “I want to do a little more research before I go home. Good work today, Sakura-san.”

“You, too, Tomoko-chan. I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“See you tomorrow!”

Sakura steps carefully around a pile of scrolls and joins her.

“Is it really okay?” Hinata asks. “It looks like you’re working on something difficult.”

She huffs a sigh. “I just need to find medical records on something. It’s not difficult, just annoying. We’ll find it eventually.”

Hinata nods, acquiescing to Sakura’s decisive attitude. The two head over to a small izakaya, one of Sakura’s go-to places that she frequents with Tsunade on late nights. It’s not a usual place for Hinata to patron, but she likes that it’s quieter than other bars and keeps to a more traditional atmosphere.

After typical small talk and orders are taken, Sakura restarts the conversation with _the_ expected question. “How is Susumu-san doing?”

Hinata pauses, gathering her feelings, her thoughts together, before deciding to go straight to the point. “...We...broke up about a week ago.”

“Oh.” Sakura stares at her, then her gaze shifts about, obviously trying to think of an appropriate response. “...How do you feel?” she asks carefully.

It’s been several days since their spar. Several days since she’s been newly single. Several days, enough days, for her to start second-guessing her decision. And she hates herself for it. “It’s funny…” she starts quietly. “I was the one who ended things, but I still feel sad.” In the aftermath of their breakup, she’s been left with new feelings to confront. On top of trying to move on, it all just feels even more overwhelming--an outcome she hadn’t been expecting.

She looks up from her contemplation to see Sakura attentively watching her. 

She continues, “I wasn’t in love with him, and...he told me he didn’t want us to keep going if I wasn’t serious.”

“Mhm...you weren’t feeling anything for him?”

She shakes her head. “But I wanted to...Susumu-kun was very nice. He was a really good person. I don’t know...if I made the right choice. I’m starting to wonder if I should have tried to give it more time.”

Sakura leans her elbow on the table, cheek resting in her hand. “...Can I ask..?” she starts somewhat hesitantly. “Is it...because of Naruto?”

The familiar, painful twist in her stomach, the wilting sensation throughout whenever his name runs to the forefront of her consciousness. “It’s so hard, Sakura-chan. I’m trying so hard to get over him,” she whispers.

The air grows still between them, filled with her confession.

Sakura’s eyes cast low, gaze unseeing on the floorboards. “I can’t imagine, Hinata. If...if Sasuke-kun were…” She frowns and sighs. “I don’t know what he’s doing or who he spends his time with, but I wouldn’t be able to handle it if I saw him with…”

Hinata thought she was done crying. She promised herself she wouldn’t cry anymore, but… She swallows back the tears and forces the sting to retreat from her eyes.

“You’re being so strong, Hinata,” she murmurs.

“I..I don’t think so. It’s...it’s lonely…”

Sakura frowns deeper. She tsks, a sudden fire flashing across her eyes. “He’s such an idiot. He’s really, really such an idiot.”

Hinata shakes her head in disagreement. “We both know that he isn’t.”

She just grimaces. “Hinata, I really don’t think he even likes Rumi,” she says, voice only just above a whisper.

“Sakura-chan,” she warns. The last thing she wants right now is pointless hope.

“I’m sorry...but I feel like I don’t have anyone to tell this to. I worry about him, and I worry about his girlfriend. Rumi-chan’s a nice girl, but she’s only 19, and she doesn’t know him like we do.”

“Over three months,” she murmurs. “They’ve been dating for a long time.”

Sakura makes a sound similar to a snort. “He doesn’t know what love means.”

“...I’m sure...Rumi-san is teaching him-” She feels like the air is sucked out of her.

Sakura stares at her, the green of her eyes just as sharp and analytical as usual, despite the fact that she’s already nearly finished her cup of sake. “I know you’re not much of a drinker, but Hinata, you’re drinking tonight. It’s on me.” Sakura calls over a waiter, ordering another bottle of umeshu.

She doesn’t argue with Sakura’s choice of comfort. Maybe it is what she needs. Maybe she just wants a moment for everything to tone down, her feelings to turn a muter shade, her memories and thoughts to blur and quiet for a second.

The sweet and sour plum alcohol races through her. The very smell of it makes her cheeks flush. One small cup, and she feels like a veil is settling over her mind. The thrum of her heart picks up, sending a glowing energy to everything she sees. “Thank you,” Hinata murmurs, and she feels like maybe she can smile now.

Sakura shakes her head, tucking a strand of pink hair behind her ear. She takes another sip of her drink. “About Susumu-san, I can’t tell you if you made the right decision or not.” She looks at Hinata apologetically. “If you really want to know what I think...maybe dating was just too soon. Just...thinking about myself...I just don’t think I’d be able to date anyone seriously if they weren’t Sasuke-kun. He motivated me, he changed me, he’s a part of who I am today, and I wouldn’t be able to let go of him easily even if I tried.”

Hinata takes a long sip of her drink, hoping the burn of the alcohol carries away her feelings--feelings that are painfully too close to Sakura’s words. She puts her cup down, and takes a deep breath as the warmth spreads to her extremities. “Maybe...maybe it was too soon… but I just don’t want to feel like this anymore… It’s awful of me, I know it is, but when I was with Susumu-kun, I felt a little better...at least better than I do now. I didn’t feel as lonely when I was with him. He distracted me...from thinking about Naruto-kun.” She doesn’t like how her insides still tighten at his name. She doesn’t like how it makes her feel like she might never get over him. “Susumu-kun made me feel like I have a chance with love.”

Sakura nods, expression sympathetic. Her mouth straightens in a tight line.

Saying all of her thoughts aloud now, all of the thoughts that spiraled through her mind until they didn’t make sense, suddenly lead to a certain clarity. “What if Susumu-kun was the one for me?”

The pinkette blinks and bites her lip. “...But you said you weren’t attracted to him.”

She stares hard at her cup, picturing Susumu’s features. “But I want to be, and if I want to be, then isn’t it possible that I would eventually?”

Sakura tilts her head, frowning, in thought. She sighs. “I guess I wouldn’t know...but, Hinata.” She waits until they make eye contact to continue. “Do you _really_ want to love him?”

The question takes her aback, and it reminds her of Naruto’s probing questions a week ago. She doesn’t know. The alcohol certainly doesn’t help, but even if she wasn’t buzzed, she doesn’t think she would be able to differentiate among everything she wants. Her reasoning, her fear, is all that she has. “I might never meet anyone as nice as Susumu-kun ever again.”

Sakura shakes her head hard. “That’s not true, Hinata, there are lots of good guys.”

Maybe there are. But she’s not sociable like Ino, not clever like Sakura. She doesn’t meet as many people as them, and she generally avoids situations that would force her to talk to strangers. Just the effort to open herself up to Susumu was a lot for her. “I just don’t think anyone would be as patient as him with me...he told me he would wait for me.”

Sakura gulps down a whole cup of umeshu. She places it down and stares at Hinata. “But you broke up with him already.”

It’s vain of her to think Susumu would still want her back. But if she apologized, if she explained her feelings about him, that she appreciates so many things about him…

“What if Naruto and Rumi-chan break up. What would you do?”

She feels an unpleasant pressure on her temples, a displeasing stress up the nerves of her legs, flaring into hot frustration. “Why would you ask me that?” she asks, tone low to mask the snapping hurt in her. You know that Naruto-kun doesn’t like me that way.” Unthinkingly, she pours herself another cup. “I-I’m not his type, I’m not cute, or, or sexy, or especially bright.” She takes a gulp of her umeshu, letting its fire burn away her dejection. _Forget_. She just wants to forget this, if just for tonight.

Sakura looks honestly regretful, and Hinata realizes that the alcohol is making both of them more loose with their thoughts. “You know, Hinata,” she says almost quietly, the softer enunciation catching her curiosity. “You know...I really thought he liked you.”

Hinata immediately shakes her head, remembering for a second everything he ever did or said that gave her hope. She drinks a little more to erase those memories, if just for now.

“If that’s his type..cute, sexy, bright… I think that you are! More than Rumi-chan, anyway.”

She looks up and gives Sakura a hard, disbelieving look. “Please,” she mutters, shaking her head again. “I...thought he seemed nicer to me, but...h-he just didn’t want to hurt me.” Her heart shutters at the memory of their last meeting. “I think he knew that I..that I loved him...but he didn’t know how to turn me down. Or maybe he was trying to see if he could like me back.”

Sakura’s brow furrows. “Oh…I guess...I don’t know, maybe I’ve never been that good at understanding him…” She groans. “But I just thought Naruto...I don’t know. It’s been so long since we’ve properly hung out, and I’ve been so busy...I just-I really thought he…”

“I thought so, too..before..” Hinata closes her eyes and finishes her second cup. Burning, burning, burning away… “...If you found out that Sasuke-san was seeing someone else, what would you do?”

Sakura gives a sudden, loud, humorless laugh. “I wouldn’t be able to handle it,” she replies. “I’d fight to have him back. I _know_ I’m aggressive, and...I wouldn’t be able to give up.” Sakura places her hand to her forehead, then pushes her hair back. “Oh damn...maybe I’d even fight Sasuke-kun.” She takes a drink from her third cup. “I don’t want to think about it…”

Hinata has always known that Sakura was very different from her. From personalities to fighting styles, they’ve always been on opposite ends. And now, with only alcoholic warmth keeping the tides of loneliness, jealousy, and admiration at bay, these differences fascinate her.

“He left me with a promise...I never even told Naruto this...but you know, Sasuke-kun and I...we can understand each other...just by looking at each other. When we look at each other…” Sakura locks eye contact with Hinata and gestures with her fingers between them. “I feel like I understand him. And he understands me. He doesn’t have to say anything...he doesn’t have to touch me, and I just...I’ve just felt like, _I know_. I know what he wants to say. Or what he’s thinking.” She takes another drink, finishing her cup. She groans. The alcohol seems to finally be really getting to her. “I miss him so much.”

Hinata buries her face in her hands. Sakura’s talking about herself, but it sounds so much like what she used to feel. She used to feel exactly like that with Naruto. She used to think they understood each other. She used to think they had something special. “How do you know you’re not just feeling that way one-sidedly?” she murmurs.

“Agh. I guess I could never know for sure unless I asked him directly.”

She can feel her head swimming, her mind wandering, slowing as the alcohol overtakes her system. “Sakura-chan...should I cut my hair?”

“What?!”

She fingers her hair thoughtfully, but very little thought is actually processing at this point. She lifts up the strands. “Short? Do you think I’d look brighter that way? Would it match me?”

“Why, Hinata?”

She shrugs. “I guess I won’t.”

“...You can if you want to.”

Maybe it would make her feel less heavy. Maybe it would be a physical way to take some weight off of her.

“You know what you should do?”

She glances back at Sakura and drops her hair.

“You should tell Naruto what you think.”

“Wha--. No.” The temptation to take another cup of alcohol is there, and she holds the bottle, half-considering what another cup would do to her.

“You should tell him that he’d be better off with you. Tell him that he should break up with Rumi-chan and-”

“No, Sakura-chan, no, I would never do that.” She waves her hand to emphasize her words.

“Why not? Fight for your man,” she states. It’s obvious that Sakura would do that for Sasuke.

Hinata would fight...if Naruto was about to get killed by a terrorist group, but that’s far from what this is. “...That’s just not me. And Naruto-kun is not...not mine...” she reasons. Despite how tipsy she is right now, she’s glad she’s still holding onto some sense of self.

Sakura just laughs. “There was a time...I thought Naruto acted like he was.”

“Acted like how?” she asks, not quite following.

“Acted like _your man_.” Sakura turns and asks the waiter for another bottle.

Hinata shakes her head again in denial, scattering away memories of that time on Susumu’s birthday. “I told you, he was just overprotective because he knew that I liked him.” She decides to go for that third cup. If she stops after this, she’ll still be okay in the morning. 

“Ugh. That’s so stupid.”

Hinata waits for Sakura to elaborate, but she doesn’t clarify if what’s stupid is her interpretation of Naruto’s actions, or Naruto’s actions themselves. “What’s stupid?”

“Naruto is always stupid.”

Hinata smiles, even though she disagrees. “I’m the one who’s stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” she scoffs. She pours herself a fourth cup and finishes it almost that quickly.

Hinata mirrors her, taking another sip of her drink. “I am. I misunderstood him. I shouldn’t have chased after him for so long.”

Sakura tsks. “You never _chased_ after him.”

“I know I didn’t _chase_ him, but...you know how they say love is blind? I guess I wouldn’t say I was blind...but maybe more like tunnel vision…” All she ever saw was Naruto. She wonders vaguely if she’s grown too accustomed to that. How long will it take her to unlearn?

“No. No, no, no, you know that’s not true! That’s..no. What are you saying, Hinata? Love isn’t blind! Love is..love is all-seeing! Love isn’t tunnel vision, either! It’s...like Sasuke-kun’s hawk.”

She agrees. 

She never felt blind. 

Not once with Naruto. 

Everything felt vivid--every moment, every word, every touch, every shared glance.

“Being in love is like a hawk’s eye. I can pick him out in a crowd. I can see everything about him in great focus. Every little detail is clear to me.” Sakura pours herself a fifth cup. “Right?”

Her eyes are wet. Her cheeks are wet. Her hand is wet.

“Hinata!” Sakura panics, grabbing at napkins for her. “Don’t cry, oh my gosh, don’t cry. It’s okay,” she murmurs.

“See, I’m so stupid.” She wipes tears from her cheeks. “I didn’t want to cry again, and then.” Her eyes are leaking like a broken faucet. Maybe tonight will be the last time.

“Hinata…” Sakura places a hand, across the table, on Hinata’s arm, rubbing her soothingly.

“Sakura-chan, what if...what if I never fall in love again? What if I never love anyone like I loved Naruto-kun?” Fear, a fear she never wanted to actually name, clenches her heart, and everything burns. Unbidden, tears form and fall. What if she never moves on? What if she never finds anything to compare, anything to come close to the feelings she’s held for him for so long.

Sakura doesn’t answer, and Hinata can’t see her through the fog in her eyes. She rubs her thumb into Hinata’s arm, the sensation calming her runaway emotions.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.” She shutters through her apology and works to get herself back under control.

Sakura hums a disagreement. “It’s okay to cry, Hinata…”

She shakes her head, wiping her face clean. “I can’t keep crying. I’ve cried so much. I’m so tired of crying.”

Sakura gives a soft sigh. “Let’s get out of here, okay? It’s the alcohol. Walking will make you feel better.” She handles the tab and helps her up to standing.

The two make their way out of the izakaya.

She feels oddly numb now, the previous depression distant. “Thank you for coming out with me tonight, Sakura-chan.”

“Of course, anytime, Hinata. I’ll walk you home.”

They walk arm-in-arm. It’s strangely touchier than she’s used to, but definitely comforting. Appreciation fills her. She’d never be able to tell anyone else her fears. Anyone else would judge her, she’s sure that anyone else just wouldn’t get it. She’s thankful for Sakura’s camaraderie. She’s thankful that Sakura reached out to her first after the war because ever since, they’ve grown closer. Tonight was just one among many other nights they’ve comforted or encouraged each other.

“-sn’t that her?... Hah, I knew it, I told you, she’s a lesbian.” A voice somewhere behind them, obnoxiously loud, cuts into her thoughts. 

It’s interesting to think the voice is talking about her. She’s never been called gay before. She never really considered it. She looks around, and she notices that Sakura does, too.

Her eyes catch on Susumu, and then a friend beside him, who’s leering at herself and Sakura.

The alcohol in her system makes it so easy for her to just do nothing in reaction. She stays put, staring at her ex, letting her thoughts slowly process that Susumu’s friend thinks she’s gay. Gay because...

He stares right back at her. He turns to his friend, then turns back to her. His mouth opens, and words tumble out, louder than his usual. “I’m sorry, he’s drunk and he gets annoying when he’s drunk and says things he doesn’t mean, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, I mean, I mean it’s completely fine if you’re a lesbian, I won’t take it personally, that’s cool, too, I mean, damn it I’m drunk...”

She’s aware enough to have figured that out in the first sentence. Susumu never usually talks that much in one breath, never usually swears, either. She laughs a little despite herself.

He gives her a small smile, but it’s weighted, from alcohol or from something else, she’s not sure. 

Sakura loosens her hold on her arm, and she belatedly realizes that Sakura had latched on tighter when they saw them.

“What’s wrong with my main man? This guy’s a catch, don’t you know?” the friend shouts at her face.

She blinks in response.

Sakura’s grip tightens once more. She shifts forward, her intent buzzing in the air, a warning.

It makes her adrenaline pick up. She squeezes Sakura’s wrist to hopefully calm her down. She had been feeling so pleasant just a second ago.

But the friend doesn’t take the hint. “How could you resist this face?” He gestures at Susumu’s head.

“Stop,” Susumu shakes him off in annoyance, tilting over slightly too far, perhaps embarrassed, definitely drunk.

The friend points at their tightly linked arms. “See, Susumu, pretty girls are always lesbians!”

“Shut up already.”

Sakura stays alert at her side, and maybe it’s because of her, she feels safe enough to just observe his friend rant like a clown. His argument nudges at her brain, sends a barely-there message that Susumu told his friend about their break-up. That his friend is doing a poor attempt at comforting him, and that she’s the reason he needs comfort.

She notices Susumu’s eyes steady on hers, and she wonders at his gaze.

The friend holds up his fingers mid-rant. “-She must be one ‘cause she never kissed you, she barely hugged you, she hardly touched you,-”

His eyes abruptly shift to his friend, face suddenly livid. “What the hell man shut up!”

She startles at his outburst, having never heard him yell before, especially not with so many profanities, and Sakura steps back, grip tight.

“Let’s go,” Sakura states, pulling at her arm, turning them around.

But she can’t move.

_Ah, I really hurt him._

She never reached out to him. She never really tried.

She never wanted him close, always tried to avoid any affection beyond hand-holding, kept herself safe behind her propriety and accustomed timidity, ignored the barrier she put up every time, pretended she didn’t have a set of standards never meant for him to match, at the back of her mind, she always compared him to-

She never tried.

Never tried to try.

Never actually tried to move on.

She steps toward him, pulling her arm free from Sakura.

“Hinata-” she starts, but Hinata continues forward until he turns at her approach.

His eyes widen at seeing her. “I’m sor-”

She grasps his shoulders, pulling him down as she tiptoes. She raises her chin, squeezes her eyes shut and-

It’s over in less than a second.

She opens her eyes to hear him releasing a breath, heavy, as if he had been holding it. His own eyes are wide, like he just woke up from a thunderclap.

She settles back on her heels, about to let him go when his hands grip her waist.

“Wait,” he breathes.

She pauses.

He leans down, and she immediately registers the difference. His lips move against hers softly, as if to drink her in, almost encouraging. 

She remembers he has experience, and then faintly considers, _This is a real kiss._

“Hinata!” Sakura gasps, just as his friend hollers an “Ooooohh yeaahhhh!!” that jars her back to where they are.

In public.

In front of their friends.

She breaks away from him, blinking, attention on the ground, trying to gather herself together again.

She suddenly feels sober.

He holds her hands. “Hinata.”

She blinks hard at the sidewalk. Her brain hovers between comprehending her first kiss and checking herself, realizing that, no, she is very drunk.

“Hinata,” he repeats, louder over his friend’s cheering and babbling.

She continues to stare at the sidewalk, but then she realizes she can’t do that forever. She looks up at him tentatively.

The gentleness in his expression is completely at odds to his earlier tone, a centering, an anchor, for the tumbling inside her. “...Do you want to try again with me?”

She can hear so much hope in his voice.

Hope.

She wants to hope, too.

She nods.

He squeezes her hands, a smile unfurling across his face. 

She watches him, mirroring his smile, knowing that, somehow, she’s now the cause of his unchecked happiness, too.

“Great, great, that’s really great,” he murmurs.

She sees how his smile stays, and thinks maybe it really is just a matter of time. Given another ten years, she can learn to love someone else. Maybe Susumu. She just has to try. She just has to reach out more.

Just has to act it until she feels it. 

Her heart may lag behind her actions, but eventually it would catch up, right?

He brings his hands up to his temples, pushes his hair back, looking up to smile over her head at his whooping friend.

Hinata steps away, toward Sakura.

Sakura’s watching her, jaw slightly dropped, eyes wide, brows furrowed.

She tilts her head, determining that Sakura looks disapproving.

Susumu’s hand grabs hers before she can walk any further away, turning her around. He glides his hand up through her nape, threads his fingers down the length of her hair, an action that feels far more affectionate, way more intimate than anything he’d ever done to her before.

It’s nice and fuzzy feeling. Like maybe that’s how Akamaru feels when petted.

“Damn beautiful.” A murmur, a tone quieter, lower, thicker than usual.

She realizes he actually thinks she’s beautiful. He really believes that about her.

“First thing tomorrow, I’ll call on you, okay?” His voice is almost a whisper.

She opens her eyes, realizing that she closed them, and nods.

He lets out a heavy sigh, then something like a frustrated groan, his hand tightening around hers. Then a chuckle. “I’m so drunk. I’m sorry. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

She nods again.

He releases her and steps toward his friend, who swings an arm around him. He laughs in response, and she notes it’s very boyish.

Cute.

It seems like she still hasn’t lost her habit of adding up his good points.

She watches them walk away before turning and making her way to Sakura. She tilts her head again in a question.

Sakura frowns, hesitating, gaze averting away to the ground, before finally asking, “Hinata, are you sure?”

“No.” The answer comes out so immediate, so definite and simple, that it startles her. Tears spring to her eyes faster than she can manage.

Vodka on his breath, in front of the darkened windows of a realty business, in front of Sakura, in front of that noisy stranger, under the yellow streetlights on a cloudy night. Two faces closer than acceptable and hers had no heat behind it. 

Only passive observation. 

Only a shapeless, complacent sense of accomplishment that she did what she told herself to do.

She feels like she can’t breathe, like she was backstabbed, only it was self-inflicted, and she curls inward, hating the shriveled lump of weeds her core has become. “I-I just want to feel better, Sakura-chan, I just want to stop feeling like this.” She rubs hot tears from her eyes, and Sakura hugs her, murmuring words of comfort in her ear.

****

He came back at lunch, Sakura’s only availability for the day, and firmly sets the scroll down on her desk. He looks at her as seriously as he can so that she _knows_ how serious he is. “Okay, something’s wrong with me, Sakura-chan. I’m really sick.”

Sakura’s eyes flicker from the scroll to his face. “You’ve never been sick a day in your life. I’ve seen your records.”

“I know.” He unrolls the scroll and unlocks it. 

Those _things_ poof onto the paper.

They stare at them.

After a few, long, silent seconds, Sakura shifts her gaze back to Naruto. “Why do you have flower petals?” she asks, annoyance edging at her voice.

“Is that what they are?!” he asks incredulously because he knows that’s what they look like, but he also knows he’s never had flowers in his diet. “I don’t know if someone’s playing a practical joke on me because if someone is, I’d like to know their tricks. This is fucked up, I’ve been barfing those things out for the past, I don’t know, a week I guess, and it’s getting worse!”

“Okay, slow down, you’ve been vomiting out...this...” She gestures at the things.

“Yeah.” He nods his head with a large frown. “Kurama says he doesn’t know what’s going on either.” 

He asked him before coming. Kurama simply told him his hosts always had excellent health, so he wouldn’t know.

Sakura takes a deep breath. She reseals the scroll. “I’ll have this examined.” Grabbing her clipboard and a record sheet, she turns to him again and clears her throat. “I need to know more. Do you have any idea of what might be causing this?”

“No,” he says, panic slipping through his tone. It’s apparent that Sakura doesn’t know what’s going on with him, either, and he doesn’t want to admit it, but it’s frightening.

“Are there certain times of the day when this happens? After you eat or...when you wake up in the morning?...”

He pauses to think. “Well...the first time...I was at home. At night. After dinner.” He remembers Rumi was over. “And then the second time was last night. We were eating dinner at that popular sushi restaurant. I had to vomit in the restaurant’s bathroom. Then right after that...when I got home…” He grimaces at the memory. “Then later on last night, too. I barfed three times last night.”

Sakura nods, writing everything down. “What did you eat before that first time?”

“Uhhhh...I think it was yakiniku.”

“...Okay. You went out with Rumi?”

“Yeah.”

“And is she getting sick?”

“No, she’s fine.”

“How do you feel right now?”

“I feel...fine, I guess.”

“No fever, stomach aches, cold shivers?”

“It happens really suddenly, like there’s hardly any warning.” He looks to his former teammate, hoping for any sign of realization in her expression.

She looks stern, like she’s thinking. “So you can just be having a normal conversation, and then you’ll suddenly feel like vomiting?... Were there any smells or possible triggers that you can remember? Nothing out of the ordinary?”

“Not that I can think of…”

“Okay. Is there anything else you can tell me?”

He reflects on his experiences last night. There is one thing. “It’s like...whatever those things are...are coming from my chest. Not so much my stomach, like...I have a few seconds where I feel like I can’t breathe. Especially the third time last night. My chest really hurt.”

“Was it a sharp pain? An aching pain?”

He hums in thought. “I guess an aching pain.”

“I’m going to examine you.” She stands up and walks around to him.

He unzips his coat to facilitate her examination.

Her hands glow green, and she hovers them above his mesh-clothed chest. Her eyes have that focused-absent look, like she’s seeing something that he can’t. “Your chakra...is congested in your chest.” Her hands move closer to him. Her head tilts in thought. She moves her hands to hover over his stomach. “...You seem perfectly fine here.” Her hands move back up.

He stays perfectly still for her, waiting for her to explain more.

But she doesn’t. She backs away and returns to her clipboard, noting down her unshared thoughts.

“What should I do?” he finally asks.

“You have a chakra illness, that much is clear. I’m pulling you off missions until we can get this sorted out.”*

“What?!” He slams his hands on her desk in shock. He needs missions. He needs to keep proving himself to the village. He needs to keep working to be the Hokage. He can’t be sitting around twiddling his thumbs.

Sakura glares at him. “We don’t know how severe this could be. Your chakra seems to be twisting all around your respiratory tract. Whether protectively or dangerously is the question. Any exertion could potentially exacerbate the situation, and I don’t want you keeling over in the middle of a fight because you can’t breathe.”

“I’ve been fine! I’ve been training all week, it’s just that other night and last night I felt sick, but I felt completely better right after!”

“No, Naruto. We need to monitor you. Be thankful I’m not ordering you to hospital bedrest.” She looks at him pointedly, challenging him to go against her any further.

He huffs and sits down with a defeated plop. “Is there anything I can do or take to get better?”

Sakura studies her notes thoughtfully. “Monitor yourself. Note down everything that you consume and do. Do _not_ train. If your condition worsens, check in at the hospital immediately.”

He squints, frowns, opens his mouth to argue about not training, then shuts it. “...What do you mean by...everything. Like going to the bathroom, walking around my place?”

She rolls her eyes. “The places you go to, the people you talk to! Oh! And no sex. Do not engage in any sexual intercourse or anything that leads to orgasm until we figure out what we’re dealing with.”

He stiffens, awkwardness making him sputter. “I don’t do anything like that.”

“Naruto,” Sakura starts, looking him dead in the eyes. “There’s no need to act so immature. I’m a medic. As you should be aware, orgasm disrupts chakra control. You don’t want to choke and die while doing it with your girlfriend. That would be a humiliating way to go.”

“Rumi doesn’t-”

“With that said, what you _can_ do is meditate. Regulate your chakra as much and as often as possible. Keep away from activities or people that agitate you, and just try to stay as calm as you can.”

He supposes meditation beats doing nothing, but she’s basically telling him to do nothing. But he keeps himself from arguing that point. The last thing he wants is being contained to the hospital.

*

That night, he relays everything Sakura told him to Rumi, minus the sex part. That would just be too uncomfortable to discuss.

“It’s serious then,” she says worriedly. “She even took you off of missions.”

“Yeah, but Sakura doesn’t even know what it is. It might not be that bad.”

Rumi looks him over. “You do seem okay. But I guess it’s better to be safe than sorry.”

“Yeah. I feel fine, though.”

“I hope it’s nothing serious.”

“Yeah. But this sucks. I can’t do anything.”

Rumi nods.

It gets quiet between them.

Usually when she comes over, they just fool around with each other. He can’t do that anymore. He realized it really would be humiliating if he died on her in any state of undress, and the past couple of times seemed to prove Sakura’s point. Whenever they got close to being intimate, he vomited. While he was doing it by himself, too…

It’s still quiet. He doesn’t really like quiet. What does he usually talk about?

“Naruto-kun?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you really feeling okay?”

“Yeah! I feel fine!”

“That’s good. Hopefully this illness will just pass.”

“Yeah.”

He feels awkward silence take over again. He should ask her about her recent missions or something.

“Do you have any idea of what could be causing you to get sick?”

“No…”

Now he really doesn’t know what to say. Whenever he asks her about her missions, her responses are usually the same anyway. “It was fine.” Or “nothing really happened.” She’s not much of a storyteller. She’s a wind-user, too, so there isn’t much that she knows that he’s not already familiar with.

“Naruto-kun…”

“Yeah?”

“You’re really feeling okay?”

“Mhm. Yeah.”

She studies his face. “Are you tired?”

He frowns. He feels antsy actually. “I’m not tired. I did nothing all day. Just ate at Ichiraku for dinner.”

“You always eat there!” she laughs.

“Well, Sakura told me to stay as calm as possible, and Ichiraku’s the most peaceful place on earth!”

She shakes her head. “You’re _obsessed_ with their ramen. You’re going to get fat one day.”

“Rumi, I would gladly get fat for Ichiraku.”

She scrunches a face at him. “Even after all of the different places we’ve eaten at, you still think Ichiraku is the best?”

“Of course!” he says seriously. “You can show me any restaurant on earth, but none would ever compare.”

She sighs dramatically. “I’ll never understand.”

 _What’s not to understand?_ “They have the best consistency of noodles, the best broth, the best chashu.”

“Hmm I guess I’d have to compare with other ramen places.”

“The difference is obvious!”

“I like udon more, though. Ichiraku doesn’t sell udon.”

“Udon?” he says in disbelief. “Ramen is so much better! In the end, it’s all about the broth! That’s what you’re left with anyway once you’ve eaten all the noodles!”

“Yeaahhh, but, I just like chewier noodles.”

He openly stares at her. He cannot believe this.

“And ramen doesn’t usually come with tempura. Udon tastes good with tempura.”

Deep fried shrimp. Expensive. And _he_ thought Ichiraku ramen was a splurge. Also… “And you’re calling _me_ fat?”

She laughs off his argument. 

“Ramen tastes better! There’s more depth of flavor!”

“Okay, okay,” she says, but he knows she’s just saying that.

“I’m serious!”

“Mhm. That’s fine. That’s what _you_ think.”

He frowns at her. He took that discussion much more seriously that she did. “You can’t just tell me udon is better than ramen and not expect me to debate that. There is no udon on earth that’s better than Ichiraku’s ramen!”

“We just have different tastes, Naruto-kun!”

He understands that, but he also doesn’t. It doesn’t seem okay. She needs to understand that Ichiraku’s ramen is the best. “Rumi. Ichiraku’s ramen is better than udon.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re obsessed.”

“No, I’m just stating facts.”

“You can’t compare ramen and udon. They’re two different types of food. If you took the best ramen and the best udon, they’d both be the best!”

“You’re the one who said you like udon more than ramen!”

“Oh. I said that, didn’t I… Well, now I’m saying that they’re both good, okay?”

He can’t believe she just went back on her original words so easily. Girls really are confusing. Even with getting older, he still doesn’t understand them. Kanae was the same. First saying they were dating, and then saying that they weren’t. What’s up with that? Why do they always change their minds? Why don’t they say what they mean? Like Sakura, saying that she didn’t like Sasuke anymore. 

Good thing he could tell she was lying that time.

Rumi’s not straightforward either. She holds things in, tells him he doesn’t “get it.” Why doesn’t she just tell him?

He blinks at her.

“I’ll take you to a really good udon place I know of!” she continues, oblivious to his confusion.

“It won’t be as good as Ichiraku’s.”

She sighs heavily. “I’m not saying that it will be, okay. I just want you to try it!”

 _Why eat anywhere else if it won’t be as good?_ But he decides not to share those thoughts. Rumi likes eating out at a lot of different places.

And that’s fine.

It just makes him a little anxious.

He remembers which places shooed him away from the windows. Even if he didn’t want to go in, they’d yell at him if he got a little too close for their comfort. Yelled at him that he was bad for business. That he’d disturb the other customers.

He knows that none of those places would do that to him now. He _knows_ that.

That doesn’t mean he wants to patron those places _now_.

He thinks maybe he should tell her the real reason he hasn’t tried different places.

“Have you been here before?” she’ll always ask.

And he always tells her, “Nope. Never tried this place before.”

And then she always looks at him with eyes wide, an expression of shock. “I can’t believe you’ve never been here! You have to try their tonkatsu!” Or misoyaki salmon. Or nabe. It’ll be the same when they go get udon later. All these foods he’s had on very rare occasions with Team 7 when Kakashi was feeling generous and responsible. 

Some foods were simply too fancy and expensive for him to have tried on his own. He had no one to tell him to eat it.

It’s just a facet of his past that he doesn’t know how to bring up with her. She’s younger than him, so she’s even less aware of his past than his other friends.

The topic is also just too heavy to think about. Or really talk casually about.

So he never tells her.

She doesn’t need to know.

He guesses it’s probably a good thing for him to try other places. Maybe kind of a way to heal and accept his past and the villagers.

*

He’s so bored.

It’s only the second day of being on sick leave, and he can’t take the monotony.

He guesses he’ll just…

Walk around.

Or something.

He steps outside. Entertains himself with kicking loose stones to the side of the walkway. Everything’s so dusty with continuous construction and modernization around the village. There’s always random rocks here and there.

Teuchi-jiisan told him that Ichiraku’s might turn into a full-service restaurant soon. They have plans in the works. They’d have to close, though. 

He’s happy for him and Ayame-neesan. Less happy about not having his favorite ramen for a whole season, but he knows that they deserve all the recognition for their food. If only Rumi understood the gloriousness of their ramen.

He senses _her_.

He looks up.

Everything from two nights ago floods back to him. How she looked. How she was with that guy. How she talked to him with that cold tone. How she _looked_ at him..glared... Like she...

He freezes, nerves racing up his limbs, tightness in his chest. 

She looks so worried. “Naruto-kun?...” Hesitation laces her voice. “Do you have a moment?”

He realizes she wants to talk to him. He nods, even though he has no idea what to expect from her. The unknown of this situation sets him on edge, makes him feel frustrated and helpless in a way he’s not used to being around her.

“...For the other night, I’m sorry.”

A jolt rattles through him. _She’s apologizing?_

“I shouldn’t have talked to you that way. You’re a good friend to me, and I know you must have had a reason. Please accept my apology.” She bows deeply, her long hair sweeping over her shoulders toward the ground.

“Hinata…” It’s like a medicine. Her words a cooling numbness over his anxiety. It breaks through his own confusion over the matter, it makes him clearly wonder...why. 

Why did any of that happen?

What would make her act that way toward him?

She’s _never_ -

“Naruto-kun?”

He comes out of his thoughts and sees her looking at him. Concern shadows her expression. He's struck with an awful sensation that the girl he used to know isn't there. A chill sinks through him. She looks so worried. So sad.

Why does she look so sad?

Is it because of that guy? “...Do you...really..like that guy?”

She blinks at him. “Susumu-kun?” she asks. 

He holds in a grimace. “Yeah. Susumu.” 

Her light gaze drops slightly, eyes averting. “I like him,” she says, her voice almost as small as a whisper. “He’s nice to me.” She looks up again.

His brow furrows, his gut twisting. She likes him? Why? He’s nice to her? Really? _It doesn’t look like it._ She doesn’t look happy. She shouldn’t be with that guy. She’s not happy. “...He’s nice to you?”

“Yes,” she states, too immediately for his liking. “He is. He’s almost too nice.”

He looks down to hide the heaviness pulling at him. That guy’s nice to her? Nice to her how?... “...You really like him?” he asks. He realizes he needs to know this. He _needs_ to know.

He watches her brows raise. The shimmer in her gaze waver. The tension in her eyes grow.

She looks away.

She keeps her face turned down.

She doesn’t answer him.

But he already knows. She doesn’t _really_ like that guy.

So if she doesn’t like him, then _why_. _Why? Why is she-??_

“But you want to be with him,” he says, coming to the horrible realization that it doesn’t matter that she doesn’t like him. She’s choosing to be with him. She’s _choosing_... He feels his throat close up, his chest clench painfully. 

“...I need to try, Naruto-kun…” she murmurs.

He can’t breathe. She’s trying to like that guy. _Why?_ _He’s not good enough for her! What does he have?_

Images run through his head. That guy taking off her sweater, holding her hand, _looking_ at her. Holding her? Feeling her? Kissing her?

Having her!!

She chose him!

He flees. As fast as he possibly can around the building, out of her eyesight. The pressure building at his throat, acid filling his mouth.

He retches.

He can’t breathe.

It’s stuck in his throat.

He chokes. He’s doubled over, heaving, trying to force it out.

It comes loose.

He has his mouth open as wide as possible, he’s screaming to get it out.

It lands in the puddle of his spit and stomach acid.

He blinks through the tears and gasps for air.

He knows what it is. He’s had a feeling since before. But seeing it is different.

A white flower.

A lily.

Each petal sealed together. An actual flower. Not just petals.

It’s gotten worse.

He’s supposed to tell Sakura.

He goes home. Shuts himself in. He’ll tell her later. 

He doesn’t feel good.

*

“I don’t feel like it tonight.” He’s trying to convince Rumi that he doesn’t want to go out.

“Is this about the udon versus ramen thing from last night?” she asks, hands on her hips, eyes squinting at him.

“No.” He’s not in the mood for that discussion again either. “Sorry,” he remembers to add. “I just don’t feel like it.”

“Fine,” she sighs, in a way that sounds like she’s not fine with it at all. “But when I come back from my mission, you’re coming with me!”

He nods half-heartedly.

She marches into his kitchen and opens his fridge. “You went grocery shopping the other day, right?” She scrutinizes his shelves. “We can make...nikujaga.”

“Okay.” Meat and potatoes. A simple dish that even he can make. Just toss everything in the pot and let it simmer. But…

He watches her remove his pork from the fridge. He bought that to make ramen. He wants to tell her so, but he’s not in the mood for her nagging, either. _"You_ _should eat something other than ramen!” “You eat too much ramen!” “You’re going to get fat one day!” “You’re obsessed with ramen!”_ Sometimes it’s funny. But all he eats these days are other things, at least when he’s with her. She never wants to just enjoy ramen with him.

“You can start the rice.”

He goes to his rarely-touched container and portions it out while she washes and skins the potatoes. He’s careful to rinse the rice. Not like the first time they cooked together. And he just filled the pot with water and turned the cooker on. And she freaked out on him. 

The Sandaime taught him to cook rice when he was really little, but he was _really_ little. So he just got used to doing things the simplest way. No one was there to help his little hands control the pot and and all the water and all the tiny grains.

Anyway, he didn’t tell her that.

It just didn’t seem like something he could say when she was panicking about dirty rice and looking at him like he came from another world.

But it’s kind of nice to make more than one cup of rice. To know he’s not cooking by himself.

After rinsing the rice a few times, he starts the cooker.

She smiles at him appreciatively, sweetly.

He grins. “See, I’m a master now.”

“Yes, you are!” she agrees happily.

After they’re finished eating, they sit close together on his couch. But unlike other nights, he’s not really in the mood for this, either.

 _She_ ’s there, at the back of his mind, with _that guy_ , and he doesn’t want to think about it. It makes him feel sick.

“Naruto-kun, how did you feel today?”

He stiffens. “I was okay.” He lied. He _lied_. He never lies. At least not to Rumi.

“That’s good. You didn’t vomit again?”

“...No.” ...He just doesn’t want her to worry, right?

“Maybe you’re getting better!”

He nods. He’s getting worse.

She leans against him and sighs happily.

Usually, _usually_ , he likes this. He likes having her close. He likes being with her.

He can’t help but wonder if _she_ does this, with _that guy_. A knot grows at the center of his chest.

“Naruto-kun?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he replies, and he thinks, he’s getting the hang of this.

She turns her chin against his arm, looks up at him. A shine in her hazel eyes. “Why do you love me?”

He blinks at her. _Why?_ It’s pretty simple. He’s told her this before, too. “You’re here with me. You put up with me.” Like putting up with his “obsession” with ramen and his inadequate rice skills. “I love you because you love me.”

She sits up. She looks away in thought, her brows furrowing. “Okay…” She pauses. “But...why do you love _me_?”

 _Why do I love her? Didn’t I…_ He answered wrong somehow. “What do you mean?”

“Like...anyone could love you. Anyone could be here with you,” she answers quietly.

He shakes his head. Rumi thinks so highly of him. Maybe he really should tell her more about his past. “That’s not true, not just _anyone_ would be with me. I told you about Kanae, right? She broke up with me...she couldn’t deal with me…”

“Yeah, but…” Her lips purse in thought. “So many people love you, Naruto-kun.”

He scratches his neck. He knows those people don’t actually know him. “You can ask any of my friends,” he says softly. Should he really tell her this? “Especially when I was younger, nobody liked me.”

“Really?” she asks in quiet disbelief. “But you have so many friends now.”

“Yeahh, well, when I was younger, even my own teammates, Sakura-chan and Sasuke, they hated me.”

“....Why?”

“I guess…” He asked that same question when he was younger. “Because everyone else hated me. It was just what everyone did.” He also knows he was an annoying little shit, but that was because he wanted attention that nobody was giving.

“...Everyone?” she asks.

“Well...maybe not everyone…” He occasionally had Shikamaru and Choji as playmates, and Hinata was always-

He feels all the color drain out of him, run down through his feet, tears threaten his eyes.

“Because you have Kurama? Nobody liked you?” Her questions feel far away.

She cared about him when no one else did and _why is she trying to like-_ The stones in his chest push up abruptly, and he bends over, unable to hold it back.

Tears spill as the contents of his body swell and bulk from his throat, burning his esophagus raw.

“Naruto-kun!!” she shrieks.

A large wet flower falls out of his mouth.

“Wha-” she gasps. Rumi runs to the kitchen. She comes back with paper towels.

He’s still bent over, unwilling to show her his undoubtedly unattractive face covered in ugly tears and spit.

“What is…” She kneels, trying to mop up his mess. “A flower? Is that a lily?” She passes him a towel.

He wipes his face and mouth. Spits excess gunk into the napkin. He doesn’t answer. That’s what it is. The head of a lily.

“What kind of sickness is this?” she gasps. “Your chakra is doing this? You need to tell Sakura-san!”

_He was never particularly religious. Even though he finally got to meet his parents, and their conversations hold a special place in his heart, he never felt the need to visit their graves. He never felt a need to place flowers or food. They were fine when he met them. They weren’t suffering. They were happy and proud of him, even though he never went to see them._

_In the past, at the time of the year when everyone goes to the graves to pay their respects to their ancestors, he never knew where to go. He never participated._

_He never had anyone to thank for giving him life._

_He never felt particularly_ thankful _for having a life._

_He also hated just being alone in a crowd._

_No one to go with._

_No one to talk to in front of the graves._

_Now he knew where to go. He knew who his parents were. He still didn’t really want to go. He got to thank them, didn’t he? When he met them? So he didn’t have any reason to do it again, right?_

_But there is one person he never got to thank for his life._

_He hesitated outside of Yamanaka Flowers, just kind of stood there, watching people going in and out._

_It’s not like Neji was his ancestor. But he never got to thank him in words._

_“Naruto-kun?”_

_He looked to see her coming over to him. “Hi, Hinata.”_

_“Hello,” she greeted softly. “Are you going to buy flowers for the festival?”_

_He nodded. Just a second ago, he was so unsure. But he thought now that maybe he really would. “Yeah…”_

_“For your parents?” she guessed._

_“Actually, I was thinking of getting flowers for Neji…” He watched her to see her reaction._

_She smiled, a small thing that brightened her whole face, brought a shine to her eyes. “Me, too.”_

_“Yeah?”_

_She nodded. “My family and I are going after lunch. Would you like to...join us?”_

_“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”_

_She looked up at him, her gaze searching his. “Then...if you wouldn’t mind...could I join you?”_

_He’s always so surprised at how she seemed to know exactly what to say. “I wouldn’t mind at all.”_

_She smiled again. She looked truly happy. “What time were you thinking of going?”_

_“I guess...now? After I get flowers?”_

_“Okay,” she agreed._

_She bought white lilies. The same flowers she laid at the remembrance ceremony. He bought white lilies, too. He didn’t know what else to get._

_They laid their flowers at his grave. They prayed silently._

_It was unexpectedly quiet. He was surprised. With so many visitors, he expected a lot more noise. Instead, it felt like they were in a bubble. As if everything and everyone around them didn’t matter._

_All that mattered was this._

_This moment between them. Between them and the grave._

_“Neji-niisan...he brought me these flowers once. When I was in the hospital,” she murmured._

_He glanced at her, then back down at the flowers. “That’s nice,” he responded, equally quiet. As if anything louder than this would shatter a delicate peace, would disrupt the tranquil bubble surrounding them._

_“Yes. It was really thoughtful of him. He didn’t have to.”_

_He nodded. There was a time when Neji would have never done something like that. But he changed._

_“I never got to return the gesture. Neji-niisan was never in the hospital,” she whispered._

_They sat that way for a long time. Eyes lowered on his grave._

_After about an hour, they got up. Dusted their legs off. They stood facing each other, hot summer wind blowing between them._

_Before this, he never knew what this part of the festival was like. Now he knew. “Hinata, thank you for coming with me.”_

_She shook her head. She smiled at him gently. “Thank you for letting me come with you.” Her shoulders raised in shy discomfort, her fingers twisting together, her feet shifted in the grass. She tucked her chin a bit, but she looked up at him through dark lashes. “Next time, please let me join you again...that is, if you wouldn’t mind.”_

_Of course he didn’t mind. He appreciated it more than words could ever say._

_They visited Neji’s grave together again that year for the annual memorial. It just felt right. And other occasions after that. This past summer, too._

_They always brought white lilies._

*

A sign? A foreboding message? The flower he always takes to Neji’s grave, blooming out of him painfully. 

Even he’s not stupid enough to not realize that it’s hurting him, that it’s getting worse and likely will continue to get worse. His chakra is out of wack, attacking his lungs. He doesn’t have to meditate to feel the congestion and weight of his chakra in his chest. Ever since the petals formed actual flowers, he doesn’t feel better after each throw-up.

He feels sick.

He feels anxious and helpless.

He feels like any wrong move could lead to another episode, like those flowers, those lilies, are just waiting to burst out of him.

Somewhere between last week and this week, he crossed a line of no-return.

And he fears.

He fears the cure is out of his control.

He sees _her_ every time he remembers the lilies, and he feels a little worse. The knot in his chest twitches or grows. His breathing gets harder. The bottom of his throat burns, irritated from acid.

He goes to see Sakura again.

“It’s getting worse?” she asks immediately when he steps through her office door.

“No…” He lied. Again. “I just wanted to tell you that I think it really is white lilies.” He doesn’t think it. He knows it.

She sighs. Heavily. “I know. I tested the substances yesterday.”

He nods. Of course she already figured that out.

“You haven’t been vomiting any more up, have you?”

He shakes his head. He doesn’t want to be confined to the hospital. “Did you figure anything else out, yet?”

“I’ve been discussing your case with Shishou. She said she thinks she’s heard of something like this before, but she’s not sure. We have to go through the past medical records. And it’s a lot. I don’t know how long it will take for us to find anything, or if we’ll find anything at all, but when we do, you’ll be the first to know.”

“...So...what happens if you don’t find anything?” He doesn’t get it. What’s wrong with him? Why don’t Sakura and Tsunade know? They’re the top medic-nin in the world, and they don’t know what’s wrong?!

“In the case that this doesn’t go away on its own, we’ll have to conduct a thorough examination. It may involve going through your memories to find a root cause.” 

“That’s…” He stares at her in horror. That’s incredibly invasive. “Why?”

“That’s worst case scenario. You see, Naruto, the thing is, chakra illnesses are not the same as sicknesses of the body. Chakra is still being studied. New discoveries are being made every day. Each person’s chakra is unique. A person’s chakra is influenced by the parents’, but also by the environmental factors they grow up in, as well as moods and feelings. Chakra can be shared, it can be conditioned, it can be strengthened, as you know it can be mixed with nature energy, and its depletion can lead to death. Who knows what else and more there is to be discovered!”

He nods, not sharing in her enthusiasm about chakra at all. His own chakra is killing him. Did she learn _that_ from her books? Apparently not. He makes to leave.

“Wait!”

He stops.

“Before you go, I want to know if you’ve thought of anything else. It’s your body, and it’s your chakra. What connection do you have to white lilies?”

He stares at Sakura. _Her_ face flashes through his mind’s eye, and the knot in his chest pinches. “I don’t know,” he mumbles out. “I’m not much of a flower person,” he adds, for no reason other than to reject the pain. He actually usually likes flowers.

Sakura deflates a bit. “Okay. Well, if you figure anything out, let me know right away. Any bit of information helps.”

“Thanks, Sakura-chan.” He leaves. 

*

He meditates for hours on end. Just like when he was going through his Sage training five years ago.

He stores up nature energy and distracts himself with the hundreds of pulsating, twinkling lives around him. He quiets his mind and lets himself seep into everything around him.

It makes him feel a little better. Like Sakura suggested, it really helps to relieve the pressure. It seems to help him regulate his chakra, and after a solid session of meditation, his chest doesn’t feel nearly as heavy.

Until one morning.

He senses _her_ with someone else. The two alone. In the woods. At a training ground.

Instinctively he knows exactly who it is. He knows exactly what they’re doing.

He can sense Hinata’s chakra flaring to life, and he _knows_ her chakra. He’s been on the receiving end of her blows, and he can just imagine her fighting expressions, her form and strength, and-

Aggravation unlike anything seizes his muscles.

He cuts the connection, dissipates the nature energy as fast as possible, his chakra balance dangerously thrown off.

He stares at his wall, but instead he sees _her._ He sees the dauntless lines of her Juuken, every powerful strike of her graceful hands, the astounding manifestation of her vibrant chakra on her fists, the stunning challenge she invokes, increasingly working brilliantly faster, and he-

He feels too large for his space, a man stuffed in a sealed barrel with no way out. The smell of his vomit makes him only choke out another one. This time he made it to his trashcan.

But what does it matter if he makes a mess.

He threw his papers all over the floor. He broke his table. He shattered a glass against the wall.

He doesn’t feel better.

He feels worse.

There’s no way back. There’s no stopping it.

That guy loves her. If he didn’t before, _he does now_ because there’s nothing like it. There’s nothing to compare after seeing her like that.

His eyes burn, and his face flames with frustration that has no outlet. His hands clench and unclench, he squeezes blunt nails into his palms.

He stares at a fully bloomed lily, the stamens streak orange stains on the petals.

_“Oh no,” she gasped. Her finger wiped at brown splotches on the stone._

_He frowned at the sight._

_“The caretakers must leave the flowers out for too long,” she murmured as she took out a handkerchief from her pocket._

_“Those marks are from the flowers?” he asked._

_She nodded. “The pollen falls off the flowers when the flowers get old. They can leave a stain.” She rubbed hard at the headstone._

_He filled the grave’s bamboo cup with water. She dipped her handkerchief in the water, then rubbed. And rubbed. And rubbed._

_He tried to clean the stone, too._

_After awhile, he thought maybe the stains wouldn’t come out. “You know, maybe he likes some color. It’s a reminder that you visit him.”_

_She smiled in spite of her dismay. “A reminder for him that you visit, too.”_

_He nods. “Yeah! You know, the stains turned kind of orange now, and, y’know, I’m orange, the stains are orange, it’s definitely symbolic.”_

_She laughed, a sound that made it seem like the graveyard was actually the most peaceful and wonderful place on earth. “I’ll come back later with proper cleaning supplies. I’m sure Neji-niisan doesn’t like being orange.”_

_He laughed, too._

The memory leaves him with no warmth.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to prevent tears.

She _chose_ that guy. She chose that guy. She chose that guy.

_What about me? What about us? Why did she choose that guy? How could she?_

How could she just…

*

Rumi stares at his empty dining area. “Where did your table go?”

“I threw it out,” he answers shortly.

Her confused gaze darts to him. “Oh. Are you thinking of getting a new one?”

He shrugs. “Guess so.”

“Naruto-kun?” She steps closer to him, her hand coming up to his arm. “What’s wrong?”

He steps away from her unthinkingly.

Her hand is left in the air. Her hand folds, and she brings it down to her side. “What’s wrong?” she asks again.

He knows what’s wrong. But he can’t tell her what’s wrong. He can’t tell her that he spied on Hinata and her boyfriend, found out that they were sparring, broke his table and vomited out two more flowers consecutively while she was away.

“Are you feeling sick?”

“No. I’m fine.” It sounds like a lie even to his own ears.

“Naruto-kun, tell me what’s wrong! We need to communicate.”

He turns and stares at her. “We need to communicate?” he repeats. “You never tell me what’s bothering you! And when I do tell you what I think, you get mad at me!”

She blinks at him in shock at his sudden yell. Her face twists into a frown. “I don’t get mad at you! What are you talking about?”

“You got mad at me when I talked about my friends that are girls! You don’t like it when I talk about ramen! You got mad when you saw how I cooked rice!”

“Wha- I haven’t gotten mad about your friends in a long time! It was just that once! That was a long time ago! And it wasn’t about that! I was mad because you didn’t _seem to care_ that I didn’t like you talking about them!”

He squints at her, confused.

“And I don’t get mad when you talk about ramen or how you cooked rice!”

“Really because it seemed that way to me!” The more he’s thought about it, the more he thinks she overreacts.

“Noo, what?! I wasn’t mad! I don’t get mad! I just thought that it was weird!”

He pauses to process that. But he doesn’t like it any better. “Well maybe I don’t like it that you think I’m weird!”

“What? Wha-” She stares at him with that look again, like he’s from another planet. “Why didn’t you tell me back then! You were thinking about that all this time? That was like...so long ago!”

“Well I’m telling you now! And don’t act like you don’t do the same thing! You hold onto stupid stuff, too!”

She pauses, then gasps, obviously offended. “...Is that what you think? When I get upset, you think that it’s stupid?”

He throws his hands into the air. “Well you never explain yourself, so yeah, I have no idea what you’re upset about, and I think it’s stupid!”

She glares at him. Her eyes suddenly gloss, filled with tears. “I come back from my mission to check on you, and this is what you’ve got to say to me?”

He glares back. She doesn’t apologize for anything he was upset about, and now _she_ cries? What the hell? She just does that to make him feel bad!

She turns abruptly and storms out of his apartment.

His door slams.

He stands there, his body seething with repressed frustration.

On instinct, he rushes to his toilet.

Nothing happens.

He’s so mad, but nothing.

He doesn’t feel at all like vomiting.

He leaves his bathroom, throws himself on his bed.

Shuts his eyes.

He knows he shouldn’t have yelled at Rumi like that, but he’s been on edge since two days ago. He’s afraid to meditate. He’s afraid to find out more. He’s afraid that what’s happening…

Has to do with _her_.

He’s afraid that his fear is correct.

Because if it is…

He thinks it’ll be too painful, he might die.

Actually die.

His chakra is constricting his breathing. His chest is heavy. His eyes burn.

 _She chose him. She_ chose _him._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hm. Don't kill me if you didn't like it, please, I'm sensitive...I worked hard on this chapter, like, definitely harder than my fluff stories. Even harder than the mission chapter from Nightdreams.  
> Oh. Hinata does not have water affinity. Based on her bio in Narutopedia, she's fire and lightning! I personally think that matches her so much better than water, but a lot of people seem to think she has water affinity. Hm. Interestingly, she has the same affinities as Sasuke.
> 
> *chakra illness - This is grimmjowkurosakidrake's idea! The writer who inspired me with their SasuSaku hanahaki au fanfic explained it as a chakra disease.
> 
> Also, I want to communicate my appreciation to all of you who left this story a heart and/or an encouraging comment/cool idea on the previous chapters. I know I say thank you all the time, but I also mean it every single time. Especially since this story is a dive into unfamiliar waters for me ^^ Your guys' thoughts meant a lot >< I hope my thank yous never sound insincere or empty. I'll keep typing it. I'm so grateful to see people enjoying these stories with me.
> 
> Anyway,  
> Thank you for reading :)


	4. Leave himself behind

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm internally screaming (with equal amounts of excitement and anxiety). I finally finished this chapter.
> 
> To get everyone in the mood for this angst business, look at the art shamy created for my story!!!
> 
> https://shamyliciouss.tumblr.com/post/186962857211/okjust-go-and-read-dayseternal-blog-s-naruhina
> 
> At that link!!!! It's so absolutely perfect for this chapter, it fits so well TT.TT I just loooove how she paneled it, it seems so symbolic!!! They are both so heartbroken and it just perfectly captures all of the feelings x(  
> Thank you sooo soooo soooooooo much shamy, I can't even. I have no more words. You all just need to copy paste that link and see for yourselves what a wreck these arts are making me.   
> Follow shamyliciouss on tumblr for more amazing NaruHina art!!!!!!!!!
> 
> Second, please listen to a few songs that jupitrie/PeppercornPress shared with me for the characters!!! I've been listening to them non-stop, and I'm just absolutely in love with them! Thank you jupitrie!!!!  
> 1\. "Fair-Weather Friend" by Bruno Major (Naruto's theme, SUCH A MOOD) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oksHjuqzsi4  
> 2\. "Truth Is" by Sabrina Claudio (Hinata's theme, ALSO A MOOD) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nv5pIhub9wY  
> 3\. "Unrequited Love" by Yuna (Overall theme, POETIC) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tPLAS-x4Pg0  
> 4\. "Real Thing" by Ruel (Susumu's theme, perfect) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fK_yLX_5iUI  
> 5\. "Lovefool" by The Cardigans (Rumi's theme, perfect) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NI6aOFI7hms  
> 6\. "A Thousand Miles" by Vanessa Carlton (Sakura's theme, very very perfect) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cwkej79U3ek  
> 7\. "Anata ni deawanakereba" (If I hadn't met you) by Aimer (Overall theme) - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9KHDrNwZN5M
> 
> *Sighs* Okay. I'm ready. Please enjoy the wallowing angst. It's about time for this roller coaster to start curving around for its descent.

Delicately crimson maples burn against the blue sky. Pale gold ginkgo leaves fan across the dry grounds. A fountain warbles up ahead, its bubbling growing clearer to her senses.

It’s quiet. The area of the park he took her to fairly secluded, far away from the hustle and bustle of Konoha central.

Despite all the muddled things that have happened, the afternoon is too peaceful, too beautiful.

_“Please. Let me make it up to you.”_

_She hesitated. She turned her face down._

_“...Hinata.”_

_He had only ever been sincere with her._

_She looked up._

_And was surprised._

_Hope, a caring smile, gently lit his face._

_How she has been wanting to hope, too..._

Susumu slows, bringing them to a pause along the path.

She stops beside him, glances up at him, and recognizes the weight across his brow, realizes that...he wants to talk.

But she doesn’t. 

She still doesn’t know what she wants, what would be best, what the right thing to do is. For him...for herself. She wishes she could freeze time, just let every day be a tranquil autumn mid-morning, the fountain ahead the greatest curiosity to consider. 

Sakura was right that she wasn’t ready to date.

But now that she’s in the thick of it, should she just stop? No amount of crying, worrying, sleepless nights have helped her figure out her feelings, and she keeps thinking, “time heals,” but how does it do that? Has she no control or say over this? Can she not push it along?

“...For the other night, I’m sorry.”

She shakes her head, confused, an apology _completely_ unnecessary from him. “N-no, I was the one..” She lets that thought trail out. The memory hurts more than she knows she has any right to feel. It’s embarrassing, it’s regretful. “I’m the one who’s sorry,” she finishes quietly.

He lets out a long breath. “I wanted it to be special for us.”

She wanted her first to be “special,” too. She had a lot of romantic notions--the most important facet, the man she wished to share it with, an impossibility. It’s too late now. And she’ll get nothing by thinking of it.

“I thought, well, away from others...when the mood was right. I wanted it to be something you would remember. In a good way.”

She keeps her eyes averted to the forest floor. An ache settles in her chest. “It was my own fault.”

He quiets, perhaps processing her words. “...Why did you...?” he asks softly. 

Why did she kiss him last night? _Why_ …well, out of anything, _this_ she knows quite clearly now. “I...I don’t know if I can find anyone else.” She keeps her eyes firmly on the ground, feels her own words itch across her skin.

She realizes belatedly that she shouldn’t have told him that. Those words of self-doubt weren’t meant for him to know. They were meant to be bottled up inside, they were meant for being whispered in Sakura’s strict confidence. 

More silence follows her admission, broken only as he tentatively laces his fingers into hers. “What do you want from me?”

The question sucks the air out of her, leaving only a sour sensation of her own inadequacy. She doesn’t even know what she wants from herself. Speechless, she quickly glances up at him to gauge his expression, his emotions.

He’s watching her. He gives no further guidance, no options for her to pick from…

She needs to decide.

She searches him, for any kind of clue or sign. Her mind feels like radio silence.

She waits. Waits for the right words to come, waits for a feeling to push her to do or say something. Anything.

Nothing.

An emptiness that stretches into more and more nothing until the silence itself is louder than the rustle of the wind in the trees, the confusion on his face, the unknowns of his thoughts, overwhelming, she feels too suddenly like the girl of ten years younger. Indecisive, hesitant, weak-willed, cowering in the face of something greater than herself. 

Love never chooses cowards like her.

He sighs, an aggravated, hard breath, one that tells her she’s pushed his patience too far.

“I’m sorry,” she murmurs, gathering any bit of strength she has to hold back tears--that shame would be excessively too much, but even she can hear the slight thickness in her voice.

He lets go of her hand, his fingers curling into a fist.

“I…” She takes a deep breath, effort upon effort to control herself. “I don’t want to be a waste of your time, but I just... I don’t know.” She can’t look at him. She’s staring at the ground, blinking away the burn behind her eyes, calming herself until she can face him.

He steps closer, she can feel his heat, his arms coming around her in a hug that doesn’t ask for her to return it. His cheek at the top of her head. His chest rising and falling slowly, in deep breaths, against her own cheek. “Hinata,” he starts.

She squeezes her eyes shut, the unexpected comfort making her shudder, freeze, stop breathing, until she’s sure she won’t cry. She releases her breath slowly, carefully.

His hand rubs her back, the other gently around her.

It’s comforting. But it also feels wrong. The juxtaposition of her feelings plaguing her fully, and she wishes, she _wishes_ she could just enjoy his affection, wishes she could just force herself to return it, her thoughts considering for a second hugging him back, make herself just act it until she feels it in her heart, but, _but_ ,

Her heart breaks.

_Pathetic_. The sharpness of her disappointment in herself sickening, scarring longer against her self-confidence, a self-hatred she hasn’t felt in a long time.

“Is it my face?” he asks, a bit of humor in his tone that makes her take pause.

She shakes her head, still hiding her own, pinched face in his easy hug.

“Theeen, is it my personality?” he guesses.

She shakes her head, and decides she owes him a very certain, “No.”

“Did you miss me?” he asks lowly.

Her eyes pinch closed only tighter. She nods. But she knows it’s not for the right reasons. She missed him because she was and is _pathetic_. Pathetically lonely.

“...Do you think you can come to like me?”

“I like you…” she softly murmurs.

“But you don’t...not really...”

She stills, unconsciously holding her breath.

He exhales slowly, heavily. He carefully backs away, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders, before dropping to his sides. His tone quiet, careful, “Just to be transparent with you, I think it’s best if I start seeing other girls.”

She can feel his gaze searching hers, almost asking for her permission, or agreement. She finally nods, a knot stuck in her throat. Her chance with him is really over.

He nods, too, his face turning away. “Um, yeah.” His eyes shift to hers. “You’re beautiful, so you shouldn’t worry about finding someone else.”

She holds in her discomfort. No one has ever complimented her appearance so easily as much as he has, and she never got used to it.

“The man you love will be one lucky bastard.”

She scrunches her nose at the swear word, shaking her head slightly in disbelief.

He almost smiles.

She knows she was the lucky one. That he gave her a second chance was more than she deserved. And she really needs to tell him so. He only did his best to build her up. She never really did anything for him. Never told him exactly what she thought of him. “You’re kind..really patient..and...handsome…” She’s never said that to anyone before, but he also deserves to know it. As easily as he ever told her that she’s beautiful. “I was the lucky one, that you gave me a second chance…thank you. And the girl who receives you will be even luckier.”

He runs his hand through his hair, then sighs again. His brows furrow together. “Don’t kiss me again, okay? I might not let you off so easily next time.” Despite the reprimand, his tone sounds joking.

And she nods seriously, apologetically, sincerely. “I’m sorry.”

“And don’t apologize to me again,” he adds, softer. “It’s okay.”

It certainly wasn’t okay. She knows that much. She sent him mixed signals until the end, making him suffer from her own mixed-up head, and it just wasn’t okay. But his forgiveness is a miracle. It’s a miracle that he doesn’t seem to hate her.

“Can I walk you home?”

She doesn’t know how he can seem so at peace in this moment. She’s sure that the disappointment tugging at her own consciousness must be so much heavier in his, but she accepts his offer.

They walk silently back, no more words to say to each other that would seem right, and she fears that that’s just how it is. Perhaps that’s just how break-ups should be. 

At her gate, he nods in lieu of a farewell.

Then she bows, an action to convey all of her indebtedness to him, then watches him turn around and head off, and as she enters her home, she realizes she feels a little more at peace, too.

*

She feels a lightness of air, a brighter atmosphere, a kind of clarity about her.

There’s no rush.

Rushing herself will only make her feel worse. Forcing herself will only put her under unnecessary pressure.

It’s okay.

If Susumu can be okay, then she can be okay, too.

It’s okay.

Even if it’s not okay, it _can_ be. She can be okay.

She can do other things.

Maybe not see other guys.

And definitely not see Naruto.

But she can just keep busy.

Spend more time with Hanabi.

Train more. Improve herself.

Just let time happen.

*

It’s after a mission on their return to the village, and all that they have left to worry about is their report, that she informs Kiba and Shino that they broke up.

They stare at her, their simple dinner temporarily forgotten.

Kiba finally blinks at her, coming out of his stupor. “Who broke up with who?”

“I guess…” She considers saying that they simply broke up with each other, but that wasn’t really the case. “He broke up with me.”

Shino sits a little taller, but his silent reaction is eclipsed by Kiba’s, “What?”

She opens her mouth to repeat herself, but Kiba shakes his head, catching himself.

“I mean, sorry. Are you okay?”

She nods. There were probably a lot more reasons, like, if looked at as negatively as possible, she was “playing” with him. Using him to figure herself out, and that’s about the lowest she’s ever gone, the worst she’s ever been, the worst anyone can ever be. And now, only now can she see how miserable she was, how awful she was. She’s not _okay okay_ now, but she’s..okay. Getting there, maybe. Probably a whole world better than before.

“You two seemed fine...can I ask why?” Kiba asks, his considerate hesitation an effort he rarely exerts.

She smiles in appreciation and shakes her head. “He broke up with me..because I didn’t have the confidence to do it myself,” she admits. 

“He broke up with you because he could tell that you wanted to break up with him,” Shino rephrases.

Hinata considers Shino’s words, deciding that it’s not quite right. “Actually, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to break up with him. I think he just thought it would be best if we broke up.”

“And has it been for the better?” Shino asks evenly.

“Yes.” It really has been, so she repeats it to solidify it. “Yes, it’s been better.” The sureness of her own tone is comforting. Rather than holding everything in, she’s found that talking about this, with Sakura, with Kurenai, Shino, Kiba, even Hanabi, has been helping her feel less heavy. Less lonely.

“That’s good, then.” And Kiba smiles at her nod.

Shino leans forward, makes sure that she can feel his attention even through his dark glasses. “We’re always here if you need us, Hinata.”

There are so many, many supportive people around her. Teammates, friends, family.

She doesn’t need _him_.

She knows she’s never _needed_ him.

She supposes it was never about need, though.

There _was_ a time in her life when he was everything to her, if not a need, it was that-

_I loved him._

...Loved?

It’s an endless ache to realize she’s grasping at that swollen sore in her heart, doing her best to pull him out, as if leaving him somewhere behind in her present will help the space in her heart (that was molded just for him, _by him_ ) close up in her future, or maybe maybe maybe, maybe one day, hold another.

_(After all, not possible.)_

_(If he’s not there, then what’s supposed to be?)_

_(Nothing?)_

It’s okay if she still cries.

Cries to mourn a one-sided joy. 

Only ever infinite to her, never to him. 

The feelings she’s harbored, collected drops of memories, hopes, visions of him in a bag fit to burst with all the affection she ever had only dreamed to reveal to him, splashes of it leaking out in her words and actions to and for him, momentous to her, colossal in effort and courage to rein in or show in measured, limitless beats of her heart.

But landing ultimately, colorlessly flat.

Whether at his feet, in his eyes, ears, mind, if not reaching his heart, she never landed anywhere.

_(It’s okay.)_

*

For avoiding anything to do with him, she’s been hearing a lot about him.

That he and his girlfriend are fighting, he’s been angry.

That he’s been taken off of missions until further notice.

That he’s been really sick, he has a chakra illness.

That he hasn’t been leaving his apartment at all.

Despite her best, her very best efforts to not think about him, the rumors worry her. Well, they worry everyone in the village.

How sick is he? Why is he sick? Will he get better? Why is he angry? From being sick?

What’s true and what’s not?

The rumors must have started with some bits of truth from the girlfriend.

Misplaced, ugly temper spikes at Rumi.

How can she be fighting with him if he’s so sick? Isn’t she taking care of him?

...She must be.

If Rumi loves him, she must be.

If it were her...she would…

It doesn’t matter.

It’s not her place to worry about him.

It’s okay.

And Naruto will be okay, too. He always pulls himself up.

*

She actively does her best to not think about him, worry about him, wonder about his health as the rumors are...rumored...to run with truth. But time gives her no reprieve.

October 10.

The anniversary of the end of the war.

It’s been _their_ tradition over the last two years to arrive at the cemetery early on occasions like this, around 6:00 in the morning. To place white lilies at her cousin’s grave. To stay together in quiet conversation or silent prayer until the sun kisses the war monument and other early-goers begin breaking the morning chill.

She’s not sure if she should go.

She knows she _should_ go.

But she’s not sure if...she should go. Because maybe she shouldn’t go.

The anticipation that used to fill her for this early morning moment, the fondness that warmed her despite the dry autumn cool, are gone, lost, replaced with racing anxiety.

He might not even come. With how sick he’s been, if the rumor is true, he shouldn’t overexert himself.

She’ll go with her family later in the day, as she always does.

But, she’s awake now. She has flowers in a vase in the washing sink, ready to go.

And what if he goes?

It’s his birthday.

And that would be really, _really_ awful of her if she didn’t show up, and he did. Even if she couldn’t bring herself to get him anything this time...not after her failed confession last winter, or her almost-actually-not-really-at-all-a-confession on his birthday last year…

_She wasn’t sure what possessed her to bake_ chocolate _for him. She could’ve chosen anything,_ anything _, and she chose a mini_ chocolate cake _. As if to announce her love to him. Maybe that’s just what she wanted to do. Tell him the truth of her feelings._

No, no. _She couldn’t do that. Not when they were finally getting along so easily. Not when it seemed like maybe, just maybe, he was starting to notice her. She wanted to be sure before she did anything._

_She was so nervous, her heart fluttering like the tiny, red maple leaves twirling from the trees, crinkling through her arms and legs, when she saw him leaning against one of the posts of the large gates to the cemetery. He was effortlessly beautiful._

_He smiled, waved with his free hand, his grin banishing the crisp cold and the early morning dusty blue dark, her pulse resetting to an exuberant race._

_He never knew how happy he made her. And it pleased her, warmed her all over, to know she could communicate a little of that today._

_She quickly went to him, uncaring if she appeared too eager, because...well, because. He made her forget herself._

_He didn’t seem to notice the bag she carefully toted along with the bouquet of lilies, he seemed to think nothing of it, and the handles burned in her tightened grip. She’d give it to him when they were leaving. A part of her wanted to relieve herself of the stress right now, but she reasoned that she didn’t want to inconvenience him._

_They walked straight to Neji’s grave. By now, this being his...fourth time?...Naruto seemed to know exactly where it was, and he confidently led the way. For all she knew, maybe he had visited on his own, too. For herself, it was far, far over her hundredth time. She had long ago lost count of her visits._

_He greeted the headstone as if Neji stood there, instead. “‘Morning, Neji!”_

_She scrunched a small smile, dazzled by his wide, self-satisfied grin, and she followed suit, copying his cheery attitude. “Good morning, Neji-niisan.”_

_“We’re back!” He nodded, leaving an opening for her to add on, and she just smiled, enjoying it. But he toned down, his voice lower when he said, “We brought these for you.” He lifted his lilies in gesture, bent down and placed them near the grave, and flipped the cup over. He reached into his utility pocket, pulling out shears for her. “I’ll go get the water.”_

_“Thank you,” she managed to murmur to him before he left. She settled in front of the grave and began to unwrap the bouquets._

_By the time he returned, she was almost through clipping the stems._

_He began taking the shortened ones, arranging them neatly into the cup. “This cup is too small. We should start bringing our own cups. Are we allowed to bring our own cups? What would they do with it? Would they just throw it away?” he chatted quietly._

_“Mm, I think they throw everything away after about a week.”_

_“Ahh that’s such a waste.”_

_She hummed her agreement. “But that’s a good idea, Naruto-kun. Maybe next time I’ll bring a taller container. Then we wouldn’t have to clip the stems and leaves so much.”_

_“It would look nicer than just laying the flowers all over him.” He suddenly started to snicker._

_She glanced at him, his shoulders shaking with quiet, gleeful laughter. An image of Neji lying on the ground, steadily getting surrounded and covered in bouquets of flowers, a deepening grimace of annoyance marring his usually serious features, rose to her mind’s eye. She couldn’t help but laugh with him, the thought too ridiculous to_ not _react to._

_He bumped shoulders with her playfully, the careless action sending heat up her neck, making her bite her lips, making her remember herself._

_“Naruto-kun,” she quietly scolded. He always made her laugh when they came here. Laughing in a cemetery was not at all appropriate. Especially for today._

_He side-eyed her, his chin pulling down in a comically judgmental expression. “What, you laughed, too!”_

_“Shhh...No, I didn’t.” A blatant lie. But he always made her feel silly._

_“Psh, yeah, sure, right…”_

_“Mhm.” She finished clipping all of the flowers and pushed a few into the cup. She gathered the leftover ones and tied them back together, laying them beside his grave._

_He was watching her, squinting at her, she could feel it, and it took everything in her to not violently blush._

_When he didn’t look away, she turned to him, a smile of embarrassment edging up on her. “What is it?”_

_He blinked, his brows lifted, he looked away as if he hadn’t been staring at her. “Nothing.” But he was grinning._

_She glanced away, a little confused, only to feel him obviously watching her again. Quickly turning to him, she asked, “What?”_

_He turned back. “Nothing,” he insisted._

_She studied him, his silent, smug laughter bunching in his cheeks. It was too late, she was blushing, and she was already at new levels of silliness. “What nothing?”_

_“Nothing means nothing, y’know? I was just watching ya!” His admission was too easy, too shameless._

_Her nerves were no match for that. Her embarrassed confusion and badly hidden happiness must have been all over her face because he laughed harder. Unable to take it, she buried her face in her hands, patted her cheeks multiple times as if to beat back the warmth of her blush, wondered if it was possible to go insane with happiness._

_His laughter calmed to quiet chuckles, and she eventually lifted her face._

_She hugged her knees together protectively to hide the frenetic beating of her heart. She laid her head on her knees, pouted at him beside her. Found his gaze._

_Blue, blue eyes shined with something warm._

_She blinked, surprised._

_He grinned, the previous expression lost in his teasing smile, and he turned to look at the headstone._

_They stayed quiet like that for longer, the lifting haze over the grounds calling the approach of dawn._

_She gave her prayers, the ones she had repeated a million times to his grave in the stillness of early mornings and late afternoons. Never with any less sincerity. They held her deeper feelings she didn’t often have time to sift through, of regret, of appreciation, of love. She thanked him, a number never to be counted, for his sacrifice, for the change he brought to their clan, for the numerous lives he saved besides her own and the precious one beside her._

_She hoped Neji knew. She hoped he knew without a doubt what a hero he was. How he would always be her hero, would always be her inspiration, her older brother. No amount of visits and flowers would ever equate to everything she owes him, but she hoped it would make up at least a fraction of her feelings._

_Naruto sat silently beside her. His own expression was solemn._

_When the shadows began to lift, gold glinting off the monument, and more voices filled the spaces between, he shifted and looked at her in a question._

_But she wasn’t quite ready to go, she still had one thing to do. Her fingers twisted into the bag. Her chest tightened, heat filled her palms. “Um…”_

_“Hm?”_

_“...Um…”_

_“What is it?”_

_She looked away, suddenly unsure of what she was about to do. What if he didn’t even like cake?_

_Naruto drew closer, his tone suddenly concerned. “What’s wrong?”_

_Surprised, she replied, “Oh, nothing’s wrong!” Only to realize she now needed to come up with something to explain her behavior. And the truth came out. “I brought something for you...for your birthday.”_

_“Oh.” His worried expression morphed, she could see realization lighting his features. It was beautiful, like joy blooming in slow motion. “Really?” It sounded almost like he didn’t dare to believe it._

_It gave her confidence. She brought the box out of the bag to show it to him._

_He took it, looked at it, looked at her, as if incredulous to even be holding a box. “I’m gonna open it now.”_

_She nodded._

_He peeled off the sticker sealing the lid, lifted it, his smile widened. “Cake!”_

_“Mhm.”_

_“You...didn’t make it yourself, did you?”_

_“Mhm.”_

_“You did?”_

_“Mhm.”_

_“..Wow!...” He admired it longer._

_It wasn’t much. She tried hard to not go overboard. She made it small enough for one person to eat. The most effort was in the birthday wish and his name, piped as neatly as she could on a flat, white chocolate piece placed on the top of the cake. She decorated it with little swirls to symbolize his Uzumaki name. She wasn’t worried about the taste because she made a second cake, just so that she could taste-test one...maybe she went overboard. Hopefully he couldn’t tell._

_“Wow, Hinata!” he exclaimed again. “Wow!” He looked at her, looked at it again. Smile unfading. “Wow…” He stared at it for so long, she wondered what he was looking at. “...wow…”_

_He liked it, and that obvious fact made her heart_ soar _. “..You can have this bag, too, to carry it in.”_

_He nodded, looked up, eyes cerulean soft. “Gee, Hinata. Thank you.”_

_She smiled, feeling shy with how sincere his reaction was. “Happy birthday, Naruto-kun.”_

_His smile grew, he seemed shy, too. He looked at it a little longer before closing it, then put it back in the bag. “Thanks, Hinata.”_

_“It was no problem. I..hope you like it.”_

_“I will,” he said, his voice as sure as always._

_They left the cemetery, she was tingling, her smile an un-receding blush on her cheeks._

_He sighed, a happy sound._

_She glanced at him, he was smiling, eyes bright._

It was after that she decided to try to confess to him. A doomed, misguided decision she couldn’t get herself to commit to in the end. Perhaps for the best. His affection already belonged to another. His first girlfriend probably knit him that scarf, the green stripes an effort her own, solid red scarf didn’t show. He probably wouldn’t have even remembered his old red scarf. The meaning would have been lost on him anyway.

She has nothing to give to him this time. He might not show up after all.

So she steps out of her house.

Heads to the cemetery.

Steels her resolve with each step, readies herself to face him, wonders if she’s managed to move on at all.

Has it been long enough?

_No..._ , she considers bitterly.

She pauses, unwilling to subject herself to any more pain.

But he might not even be there.

He has a girlfriend, after all.

He shouldn’t spend time alone with another girl anyway.

Maybe he and Rumi will come together later on.

She takes a step back, unsure. She doesn’t need to go.

_But what if he’s there?_

And just as suddenly, a memory: _“What if Naruto and Rumi-chan break up. What would you do?”_

She stands there, two blocks from the cemetery, doubt confusing her.

Minutes pass as she calms herself into blankness.

This isn’t about romantic love.

This isn’t about her relationship with Naruto.

Today is about Neji.

No, _every day_ is about her cousin, her only older brother. She owes him her very life, every second, every breath. He was one of the few people in her life who really believed in her and showed it, who took the time to improve her, who was always there for her.

By acting like this, isn’t she stepping on his memory? Neji would never let her be so pathetic. Even when he hated her, once upon a time, it was because she wasn’t stronger, wasn’t living up to her name and place. 

He gave her so much of his time and knowledge to help her, develop her. Amazingly, he was more patient with her than her father ever was. He pushed her past her limits, reminded her of her goals when she thought she was too tired to keep going, never once called her a failure or a disappointment during their trainings.

_“Again.” Neji stood ready, poised in his battle stance. Hours of practice seemed to do nothing to him. He was an immovable wall, straight and proud._

_How often she wondered if she could ever be like him._

_“Hinata-sama, up.” His demand was calm, never frustrated._

_She stood, her legs shaking, her joints aching, her very skin burning at the chakra points. But she was up. And that’s what mattered._

_Neji proved to her that as long as she could stand, she could keep going. He trained her into a tenacious spirit._

Or so she thought.

Just last year, she felt she was everything he wished her to be. She felt like she had grown into a kunoichi he would be proud of.

What about now?

Letting her indecision and hesitation ruin herself, ruin others. Letting herself wither in self-pity. Letting herself rely on others for comfort, when he always told her to dig deeper within herself.

If she can’t face her weaknesses, her fears, then she really is useless.

And Neji didn’t save her so that she could waver uselessly about like this.

She needs to go.

For Neji.

For herself.

She steps toward the gates of the cemetery. Empty. And it’s okay. She passes rows and rows of headstones, finds Neji’s, empty, no visitors. It’s her alone at his grave.

And that’s okay.

That’s better than okay.

This is what she needs right now. If he comes later, then he comes.

And that’s okay, too.

Today is for Neji.

And she’s okay.

She’s okay.

She’s glad she came.

****

He isn’t prepared for something like this.

He’s never been like this with anyone.

Why is everything like this now?

Naruto stays in bed, there’s no reason to get up. No place to go. No one to see.

His girlfriend hasn’t come to check on him.

And he’s not going to do a single thing about that.

He shouldn’t be the one to apologize first. Not this time.

So…

She has to apologize first.

And he’s just going to wait.

It feels stupid.

Those books about dating didn’t say anything about this. Stupid girlfriends and stupid fights and stupid feelings…Something’s wrong with him.

This heavy, gut-deep feeling twisting his insides, filling him with a restlessness, something close to, similar to, when Sasuke left the village. But he could do something about that. He could chase after him, find him, punch the stupid out of him, and that was that.

He’s disgusted to think that this time, the stupid is in himself. Sakura always told him he was stupid, but he never let himself take her words to heart.

Kanae couldn’t deal with him. She dumped him within two months. 

He thought he was doing well with Rumi, but now…

He’s the common factor, after all, _Even Hinata doesn’t-_

The weight in his chest hardens in his throat.

He doesn’t fight it this time. The empty plastic bag is ready by his bed, he just turns over and lets it go.

It _burns_ , sharper than before, in his throat, behind his eyes, in his nose.

The flower plops out, wet petals splaying out.

But relief eludes him, his chest tightening painfully, he’s choking, hacking out labored coughs.

Slender green leaves, stiffer than the flower petals, slide out in his spit.

He grimaces at the sight, catching his breath, hating it, hating himself.

Obviously it’s worse, he realizes pretty soon he’ll be coughing out entire stalks. Yet somehow, he can’t find it in himself to care enough to do something about it.

*

When he realizes he’s hungry, he returns to instant ramen, his version of comfort food. Rumi tried to convince him to make okayu, that bland rice goop that takes a forever and a half on the stove to soften. As if _that_ would heal his chakra illness. It’s not like he has a fever or a cold. If it’s a sickness of his chakra, shouldn’t he just eat what he wants?

Well, what he really wants isn’t instant ramen.

He heads to Ichiraku when everyone else is in bed. Ever since they turned 24 hours a few months ago, he had been making it a habit to go when no one else is out and about. It lets him eat peacefully after or before missions, something he didn’t realize he’d ever want. His younger self would never believe him if he said he was actively avoiding people’s attention. 

But tonight he just wants to enjoy ramen! Ramen is his greatest companion!

When he arrives, only one older man is sitting at the bar. They nod to each other in a silent hello.

Teuchi and Ayame aren’t manning the restaurant. It’s their new-ish hire, Jun, who he’s gotten to know over the last few months.

“Naruto!” Jun greets. “I haven’t seen you in awhile!”

“Yeah, it’s been...awhile.” He can’t reason that he’s been busy. Because he hasn’t been. He can’t say that he’s been sick. He doesn’t want to talk about that.

The cook gestures to a flyer on the wall near the menu. His name, NARUTO, is printed in bubble lettering over a picture of a steaming bowl of ramen covered in sliced narutomaki and pork. “Do you want to try your special item?”

_It’s already that time…_ The end of the war. His birthday, too, in just a few days. He had it once last year when Ichiraku first started commemorating the anniversary in his honor. It _is_ miso ramen, his favorite. He shrugs. “Sure.”

“One Naruto Special coming right up!” Jun begins portioning out the noodles for him. “What brings you out so late tonight? You had a mission?”

Nothing goes his way these days, like Jun running straight to the heart of everything that’s annoying him right now. His utter uselessness. “Uh yeah, no…”

Jun raises a brow.

He can go a few ways with this, like lying, giving vague answers, or going all in with the truth. Jun is someone with little stake in his personal life. And he’s barely talked to anyone in the past week. It’s only the rich scent of ramen keeping him from going berserk at this point. “I’m sick, so I’ve been relieved from duty for awhile.” The truth comes out.

“You have a cold or something?”

“No,” he sighs. “A chakra illness.”

“...That sounds bad,” Jun states uncertainly.

“A chakra illness?” The stranger nearby jumps into their conversation. A fellow shinobi, by the looks of it.

Naruto shrugs to show he doesn’t know much more about it.

“That’s serious!” the stranger continues.

“Ahh, no…” Lies and vague answers. “It’s not that serious.”

The man settles back. “Hope you get better soon.”

“Me, too.” Naruto knows he should go talk to Sakura. He knows he should, but…

“So you haven’t been coming around because of your illness?” Jun continues. “Last I heard, your girlfriend didn’t like it that you came here so often,” he laughs teasingly.

Every single topic he wants to avoid. “Yeah…” he huffs out. “It’s both.” He doesn’t realize how aggravated he sounded until he sees Jun’s skeptical expression.

The shinobi a few stools down sounds out a knowing “Hmm!”

“Things aren’t going well with her?” Jun asks cautiously.

The question makes him stop. And think. Because it seems obvious that...things aren’t going well. It’s too obvious. But verbalizing that would make it _too real_. More real than it already is. So he answers with silence.

Jun nods sympathetically. “It’s normal for people who are close to get into arguments sometimes.”

“Huh.” He supposes that’s true. He’s really close to Sasuke and Sakura. So it makes sense that he’s constantly arguing with them. But things were sorta always that way with them. And the fights never seemed to _last_. Minus when Sasuke defected. With Rumi, it’s just...different. Worse. “I just feel like I can’t say what I want to say to her, like I’m always holding back.”

“Hmm!” the stranger sounds out again.

Naruto stares at the man, but he just nods and eats his ramen, now keeping his thoughts to himself.

Naruto doesn’t know what to make of it.

Jun’s mouth pinches together thoughtfully. “I guess I do hold back on some things with my girlfriend. I don’t talk to her the same way I talk to my friends.” Jun sets the completed bowl of ramen down in front of him, steam wafting over his face, the salty scent waking him up.

Naruto starts eating immediately, the creamy broth a taste of heaven. He wishes Rumi could just enjoy ramen with him, even better if she would order multiple servings, like how Hi--------.

“If you think it’s a real problem, though, you should talk about it with your girlfriend.”

He swallows a mouthful of noodles, viciously veering all of his thoughts and senses on his food. “...I did...she just got mad at me.”

A contemplative silence follows.

The memory of Rumi storming out of his apartment makes him frown. He stuffs his mouth with more hot ramen, his loud slurping meant to drown out all else.

“...You want to make up with her, right?” Jun asks.

Does he want to make up with her? Of course. Right? That’s just what he does. What he _always_ does. He treasures the people around him. He’s put so much effort into making this relationship work. He can’t just give up on it...right?

“It’ll work out as long as both of you want it to.”

_Does Rumi want it to?_ He can’t imagine apologizing first this time. And if she apologizes first, then that would show she wants things to work out, too.

The older shinobi stands and sets his payment down on the counter. “My wife and I divorced. Just as it takes two to repair a relationship, it takes two for it to fall apart in the first place. One person can be more at fault, but-” He looks pointedly at Naruto. “Just remember it takes two.” The man leaves.

Naruto frowns at his retreating back, disappearing into the night. _I know that._ He didn’t need those parting words. He _knows_ that not everything is Rumi’s fault, he _knows_ that something is wrong with him, he _knows that-_

_I’m more at fault than anyone…_

His chest feels like stones are steadily piling within, hard knots that make it hard to breathe. But he forces the rest of his ramen down, gulping it as if it’s his first meal in ages. He came here to enjoy his ramen, the simplest task in the world. He can at least finish it.

*

He’s been throwing up, hardly able to keep food down with it.

He can’t stop thinking about last year’s annual memorial. He doesn’t want to think about her, he doesn’t mean to think about her, he knows he shouldn’t think about her, he knows, knows, knows…

And he can’t deny it any longer.

Just the thought of last year makes his gut turn, his chest tighten painfully, his neck seize hot with strain. Before he can stop it, he’s throwing up the flowers he usually purchases, the burning, soppy, bulky mess conflicting awfully against a faint memory of sweet chocolate cream. He doesn’t even need to go to the florist. He has an entire field in his body.

But between worrying about whether he’s going to go tomorrow to the cemetery and whether he should go and get this stupid fight with his girlfriend done and over with after long over a _week_ of not speaking, he can’t get himself to do anything.

He knows what he should do. He knows what he’s _supposed_ to do. A good boyfriend would-

He doesn’t want to.

He doesn’t want to do anything.

He can hardly think, can’t get his priorities straight. Can barely consider the idea of confronting Rumi without thinking of tomorrow morning, honoring Neji, can barely wonder if Hinata will even--

He finds himself hovering over his trashcan or the toilet every few minutes, sour saliva filling his mouth, gasping for air, trying to keep himself from vomiting _again_. Only after several minutes of careful breathing, when he’s calmed enough, he moves away to the couch.

Rumi was right about him.

Rumi was right.

It’s obvious that Rumi was right.

Rumi, that night, when all of this started…

_“You don’t...you don’t get it…you have_ me _, Naruto-kun...you shouldn’t...why would you…”_

She was right.

What he’s feeling, what he’s thought, it was, it _is_ , _strange. Weird._ No, fucking worse than that. And he didn’t want to admit it, didn’t catch it until every wrong, stray thought betrayed his duplicity with hard, painful evidence.

He needs to do something or say something to fix everything. He needs to make it up to Rumi somehow. _Somehow_ make things right again. With her. With himself.

He lays on his couch, listlessly staring at the ceiling.

It’s easier to just not think at all.

**_Naruto._ **

_Yeah?_

**_You’re losing chakra. Your body’s not properly replenishing its natural supply._ **

_Yeah, okay._

Kurama’s more awake these days, restless at the back of his conscience. When he notices something, he verbally observes it. Then goes back into silence.

**_I can’t help you with that._ **

_I know._

**_I’ve been healing your throat._ **

That explains...a lot. _...Thanks._

**_Ungrateful brat! Go see your medic-nin friend._ **

He groans, trying to shut off their mental connection.

A hard, authoritative rap against his door, ten consecutive knocks too long, echoes through his apartment.

Sakura.

_Damn it._

**_Heh._ **

As much as he doesn’t want to, he drags himself to his door. He knows what would happen if he doesn’t.

She has her hands on her hips, head tilted with eyes that take in every wrinkle on his shirt and skin. She gives the most exasperated sigh. “I told you to tell me if your condition worsened!” she scolds. “You want to die?”

A rhetorical question, but he still feels compelled to self-righteously say, “No!”

She rolls her eyes. “Then come on!” she snaps impatiently. “Get your shoes on!”

He does as he is told, coming to the annoying conclusion that he’s very likely going to have to stay in the hospital until he gets better. “Are you going to order me to hospital bed rest?”

“And if I do, what? You’re going to run away? Don’t you dare try, or else.”

He frowns, sulking. But for the first time in a long time, he doesn’t feel like he’s about to be sick. He really should have gone to see her sooner. Sakura’s one of his closest comrades, he trusts her more than almost anyone.

As they’re heading to the hospital, he wonders if he really looks _that bad._ Sakura could tell as soon as he opened the door. Maybe he smells of vomit?... “You could tell just by looking at me, huh…”

She glances at him and shakes her head. “No. Rumi came to see me today. She asked about you.” She says this all matter-of-factly.

It makes him blink hard, guilt slamming into him ten-fold. The disgust in himself, steadily building over the past few days, now sluggishly oozing everywhere.

Rumi hasn’t come to apologize, but she’s still thinking about him. She’s still worried about him. And Sakura probably knows that their relationship is rocky…

But Sakura doesn’t say anything more, and Naruto doesn’t know what to say.

*

“So?” Sakura is in her professional medic-mode, green eyes boring into him.

He feels vaguely like he’s in an interrogation.

“Rumi told me that you were coughing out entire flowers. I want to hear it directly from you. How bad has it gotten?”

He should have told her a long time ago. He should tell her now. But once again, he feels the need to evade this entire topic. He shifts in his chair, almost daring to act like he didn’t hear her.

“Naruto. This is serious. I need you to tell me.”

He works his jaw, feels the weight of her serious stare, and finally lets out a breath. “...It’s whole flowers.” The words fall out heavily, a burden he had kept for too long. “And leaves.”

Her brows furrow. She notes it down.

“Sakura-chan...what should I do? Tell me you found something.”

“I looked through our archives. I researched similar chakra illnesses, but that’s the thing. They can be similar, but the root causes can be drastically different from person to person. Naruto..” She takes a deep breath. “We haven’t found anything specific to your condition, but! Shishou and I discussed a theory yesterday.”

He can’t help frowning, showing how absolutely unnerving it is to hear that he has an unrecorded sickness, never experienced by anyone else. He waits for her to continue.

“The lilies are obviously a chakra transformation. The question we needed to answer is, why? Why would your body be suddenly evicting your own chakra? In the form of flowers? Well…” A familiar glint of determination sparks in her eyes. Her penchant for academics was always beyond his understanding. “We think it’s not your _own_ chakra. After all, you don’t have the Floral Release kekkei genkai. This transformation is not congenital.”

He looks away, trying to understand. Failing to understand. He frowns. “Kurama’s chakra is doing this?”

“No. At least we don’t have reason to believe so. We’ve seen Kurama’s chakra manifest before.”

That’s true. Kurama’s chakra is the opposite of elegant white lilies, more of a threatening, boiling red or a poisonously thick, crackling black.

He stares at her. Just waits for her to tell him.

When she sees that he’s not coming to the answer on his own, she finally continues. “We posit that it’s nature energy residue. Very few shinobi undergo Sage training. Even fewer shinobi successfully complete such difficult training. Based on mostly Jiraiya-sama’s accounts, we believe your body contains a very small--minuscule really--amount of nature energy at all times, a kind of left-over residue from repeated collections. You build up a resistance or defense over time to nature energy’s power in this way, which allows you to activate Sage Mode more and more easily.”

He nods. That makes more sense to him than he thought it would.

“However, that theory doesn’t really tell us _why_ this is happening.”

Stress tingles at his limbs. He swallows inaudibly. He doesn’t want to discuss this at all.

“Why _now_?” Her eyes narrow at him skeptically. “ _Something_ must be so disturbed, that it’s disrupting your body’s regular functions.” Her voice has quieted some, her words seeming more like thoughts for herself than for him. A conversation she’s probably been having with herself or with Tsunade for awhile now. “Your body is seeking an equilibrium, trying to rebalance itself, and the nature energy residue that’s riding along your own chakra system is the first thing kicked out...As lilies.”

He stares at her, unwilling to interrupt. Sakura’s so smart, he’s afraid to know if she’s already figured him out, but he can’t just stop her from talking. It’s like reading a terribly predictable story all the way through, only to find out if it ends the way he thinks it will.

“These lilies are the key. The body tries to heal itself on its own. It’s our body’s natural instinct. And for some reason, your chakra is manifesting as _lilies_ to help you to restore your equilibrium. Your body is trying to provide you with what you need. It’s _telling_ you what you need.”

His chest is heavy with the weight of a shame he doesn’t want to address.

“It could’ve been anything else,” Sakura reasons in his silence. “Any kind of plant or other nature release. Or your body could have just leaked your chakra out gradually. It would end the same way. Chakra exhaustion.” She stares at him, willing him to look her in the eyes, but he can’t. “Naruto, if this keeps up, you will either die of chakra exhaustion or from strain on your respiratory system.”

It sounds surreal to him. He’s faced death on multiple occasions, but never like this. His body’s never failed him before.

“Naruto?” Sakura’s tone is gentler now. “You already know why this is happening, don’t you? I need to know so that I can create an antidote or a plan for a solution… Can you tell me?”

He shrugs again, but it’s getting harder to breathe, and he’s desperately trying _not_ to think, to keep his mind as blank as absolutely possible, because the _last_ thing he wants to do is think of..think of…

He gets out of his chair, dropping his face into the nearest trashcan.

_“It’s telling you what you need.”_

_Hinata._

His chest clenches, tightening, tightening. An ache shooting up his neck. A painful burn at the bottom of his throat. 

_I’m sick because I-_

A flower blooms out of him, tearing along his esophagus.

Two.

Three.

Vaguely he knows that Sakura’s right behind him, her chakra seeping through his back, into his chest, attempting to soothe him.

He coughs out stiff leaves, slick with saliva.

He spits out extra congestion. Blood.

His eyes widen at the sight. _Kurama!_

**_Tell her now or your throat is going to start hurting a lot more from now on._ **

He squeezes his eyes shut, tears pricking beneath his eyelids. _Hell no!_

“Naruto,” Sakura calls, tone concerned. “You need to tell me what’s going on _now_.”

He pulls himself up. His head feels heavy. His chest feels heavier. He wants to lie down and curl up into the fetal position just to relieve the pressure. “I’m just stupid, Sakura-chan. I’m a complete asshole.”

“...What do you mean?” She leads him back to his chair and helps him to sit down again.

“I mean what I said. Even _I_ know it’s wrong.” He sighs. Groans. Covers his face in his hands. “I don’t know what to do.”

Sakura waits several seconds for him to continue.

He doesn’t want to explain, the last thing he wants to do is voice it aloud.

She leans forward in her chair, gaze intent on him. “Naruto, you really need to tell me. This illness you have can kill you if we don’t resolve it.”

He drops his hands, stares at Sakura. Wishes for a forgiveness before he’s even confessed to anything. How will she react? With anger? Because he’s so stupid? “I know I’m with Rumi,” he tries. Is it any justification?

Sakura just gives him a look of confusion.

“But I…” His voice dies in his throat. He feels like he’s going to retch. 

“...Naruto, if you can’t tell me, our only other option is a memory evaluation.”

He swallows it back. “Sakura-chan, I’m a bastard.”

“What are you saying? Why are you saying that? What did you do?” Her patience is obviously wearing thin. “Did you...cheat on her?”

“No...yes...I don’t know. I don’t know, Sakura-chan.” He buries his head in his hands again. _Fuck, am I cheating on her?_

“Try to tell me what you do know.”

“I don’t deserve anyone.”

“...Why would you say that?”

“Because I’m shit.”

“Stop talking down on yourself and _talk to me_.”

He finally looks up. He knows he’s the absolute worst. If he confesses everything, all the ugly and disgusting parts, Sakura will beat him up, like he deserves. “It wasn’t intentional. I didn’t mean to. I don’t even know why…” Has he been cheating on Rumi? His feelings are so foul, his own body couldn’t reconcile them?

Sakura silently waits for him to continue, her brows furrowed in her concentration.

He takes in another breath, labored with the pressure on his breathing. “I just...I...just...hate it so much. That she’s-” His face scrunches up--a flashing memory of her purposely leading _that guy_ away from him--bile burns his esophagus, and he swallows it back. He hopes Sakura knocks him out. “I think about her too much. I have Rumi, but I was thinking about her. I _am_ thinking about her.” He thought about her in all kinds of ways. Fantasized about her. Even _he_ knows, after nearly two weeks to himself, after finally facing reality, that it’s wrong. An awful thing to do. “Fuck, I haven’t spoken to Rumi in over a week, but all I can think about is...” He looks at Sakura desperately.

She looks speechless.

“I _can’t stand it_ , I can’t stand that I’m being like this!” He’s not doing right by Rumi, but he can’t even bring himself to apologize to her. He still doesn’t want to accept it, that he’s a jerk, a real piece of shit. He feels itchy and gross beneath his own skin. He wants to crawl out of his body and leave himself behind. He’s always been loyal. He’s always been trustworthy and reliable. Despite all his faults, he always faced people honestly, so why is it that all of a sudden, he’s acting like this? He tried blaming it on _her_ for so long, rationalized that it was _her_ fault for choosing _that guy_. He never had any patience for two-faced assholes, and he refused to recognize it in himself for so long, but it’s been so obvious, so so obvious.

“Naruto,” Sakura intones quietly, slowly. “...Who are you talking about?”

“The _lilies_ ,” he breathes out. He can feel the pressure tangling, collecting, expanding heavily in his chest, right there at the bottom of his throat, spit collecting on his tongue. “What am I supposed to do?” He could probably walk right up to her, and she would just push right on through- “I can’t do anything, there’s nothing I can do about this, what am I supposed to do?! I just, I just want to stop!” He _shouldn’t_ desire her, it’s wrong of him. But all he wants, all he really wants, “I just want her to look at me, nothing else”--a labored breath--“I don’t need anything else from her if she would just-" _lo_ _ok only at me_ "-it’s wrong, _I know_ believe me I’ve been _trying_ to stop-”

The twisted knot in his chest lodges up into his throat, choking him. The bulk shoots up, unending, his mess spilling on the floor. Through the burning blur in his sight, vague flowers plop into his puddle, traces of blood streaked on white and green.

“Naruto!” A sound of a chair clattering on the floor, and Sakura’s familiar, warm chakra seeps into his back, into the spaces of his chest, disrupting the spastic surge of his own, until he’s coughing for air that’s not making it past the blockage in his chest.

He blacks out.

*

The first thing he registers is the dark window. Night.

“Naruto-kun!” Rumi leans forward from her seat, catching his attention.

He’s lying in a hospital bed, the clean sheets stiff over his body. “...Rumi…” His throat feels dry. He swallows, then grimaces at the sour taste of his own breath.

Her hazel eyes are low with concern.

The last time he saw her, she slammed his apartment door. What is she doing here now? Is she not mad anymore?

She watches him silently, maybe waiting for him to say something, but he doesn’t know what to say. He should apologize or ask her how she’s been...Do something or say something, but nothing feels right. The hollowness in his gut contrasts with the latent weight of his chest. He can’t grasp at the excitement he used to feel when he saw her. All he recognizes is his own guilt. He’s a disgusting guy.

“Sakura-san told me to inform her if you woke up.” She hesitates for a moment, shifting in her seat. But he just watches her slowly stand, walk around his bed, slide the door to his room open, and disappear as she shuts it.

The beeping pulse of the monitor beside him is one of the worst sounds in the world, he’s certain of it. But for once, he hopes it stretches time for as long as possible. He’ll only have a few minutes before he has to confront everything.

When the door slides open again, Sakura enters, alone. “You gave me a scare there, Naruto,” she scolds. “Not to mention the mess in my office.”

He tries to crack an apologetic smile, but his lips can’t curl properly with his cheeks. “...Sorry.” He pushes himself up to sitting.

She shakes her head. “You’ve been stable for the past few hours. As soon as you fainted, your chakra began to relax. All I did was stop any internal bleeding, but Kurama helped that process along.” She takes a seat where Rumi was before.

“Thanks.”

Sakura faces him, holds his gaze, then flips open a blank page in a notebook. “Your condition is much more serious than I thought. Any slight thought seems to trigger an episode, and you obviously can’t bring yourself to say it. I want you to write it for me.”

“Write what,” he asks warily.

“Who the lilies are.”

Tell-tale spit gathers beneath his tongue. He hastily grabs the notebook and pen from her, scrawls her name across the page, and pushes it back to her, looking away, unable to settle his sight on those characters.

Sakura sighs. A long, tired one.

When he glances back at her, he’s never seen her look so sad for him. Sympathetic maybe.

He waits for her to say something, anything, to beat him or curse at him. When nothing comes, he baits her. “So? What?!”

“Did you know that they broke up?” she asks quietly.

He blinks several times, processing.

“Hinata and Susumu-san broke up recently,” she repeats.

He looks away, trying to comprehend the slightest ease of tension in his chest. “Really?” he asks, unwilling to believe it just yet.

“Yes, she told me a few days ago, that they’re officially off.”

He feels like he can breathe better, like things are re-righting themselves in the very structure of his body.

“Naruto?”

“..Yeah?”

“Do you understand how you feel about her?”

He looks at Sakura, frowns. How he feels about her? He shrugs, gazing at her cautiously.

“Don’t you…” Sakura bites her lip. “Don’t you love Hinata?”

Her words feel bitter, they tie up a pit in his chest, a knot sitting at his heart, plugging whatever relief he had just regained. “...I have Rumi,” he negates. He said that word to his girlfriend, and he has the gut-churning feeling that he shouldn’t use those words for anyone else.

“You-” Sakura lowers her voice to a whisper. “-You don’t have to, Naruto.”

He digs through her meaning, arriving at the conclusion that Sakura’s telling him...to break up with her. “I, I can’t do that.” His eyes widen. “I need to make up with her. I’ve been such an ass to her, I need to make it up to her somehow.”

She buries her face in her hands. Then suddenly lets out a muted, frustrated scream. “You’re such a fool! Do you _really_ think that’s the right thing to do?!” She looks up at him, her viridian eyes flaming with impatience. She doesn’t wait for him to respond. “You know what. Normally, _normally_ , I would try to mind my own business. But this has to do with your health. And I need to make sure you understand what’s going on here.” She takes in a big breath, as if she’s about to pick up a boulder. “You have a disease that’s transforming your chakra into lilies, which are being violently expelled from your body. The probable root cause is an exceptionally intense emotion toward Hinata that you, or your body, needs to communicate or express, but you have no outlet to do so. Therefore, from what I can tell, unless you convey your feelings to Hinata, you will continue to lose chakra.” Sakura stares at him, eyes wide but with the piercingness of a glare. “Do you get it?! You need to prioritize your feelings!”

Naruto turns away, looks toward the door where Rumi last was. It would be wrong of him. “I can’t just do that to Rumi. She never did anything wrong. That would hurt her, right? There isn’t anything else I can do?”

Sakura tsks, sighs, her head falling back to stare at the ceiling in her obvious frustration.

“There’s no other way?” he presses.

She groans, her eyes closing for a second. “Surgery. But I don’t want to do it. No. I refuse to do it.”

“Wait, what, why?! You just take out whatever’s fucked up inside of me, right? You can do it, that’s easy for you!” There was such a solution this entire time? Why didn’t she say so earlier?

She scoffs. “Of course I _can_ do it. But like I said, I don’t want to!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not that simple!” she snaps.

He shakes his head at her in confusion. “What do you mean?!”

“You’ll _change_. Chakra surgeries are sensitive, it’s a very delicate process, but no matter how careful the medic is, the patient always comes out... _different_.”

“...What do you mean?” he repeats.

“I told you before that chakra is tied to your very identity. Operating on it can screw up all sorts of psychological aspects that we can’t begin to predict. Yes, I can remove the physical problem. But you would never be the same.”

He waits for her to elaborate.

“You could not only lose abilities, you could lose memories, even entire emotions. One patient Tsunade told me about lost memories of his brother. The patient had a stress-related chakra illness that was making his chakra too thick for his system. Shishou operated to remove the strain, but after, the patient forgot how to connect with his own brother! He could tell that he was missing something that he used to have, but he couldn’t remember his own feelings.”

He squints at her.

“Considering that this is about Hinata...” She averts her gaze. “I predict that there’s a chance you could lose your memories of her...if I operated on your chakra.”

_Lose my memories…?_ Hinata jumping down between him and Pain, protecting him? Her blood dripping down her face, her fearlessness then, her assuredness while confronting what he was certain would be her death? Just forget everything she’s ever done for him? The weight in his chest spreads, an ache developing all up his sternum, a strain along his collarbones. “I can’t lose my…” he murmurs.

“...I know.”

He holds his head in his hands. Tries to imagine what he needs to do.

Find Hinata.

Tell Hinata...tell her what, exactly? That he needs her? Wouldn’t she just look at him speechless and confused?

And then what? He’ll feel better?

Maybe?

And then? What about Rumi? Isn’t that _actually_ cheating? Talking to Hinata about his...feelings...when he has a girlfriend? He can’t do that!

But he needs to if he wants to get better. Forgetting Hinata is out of the question. Doing nothing means he’ll be that much closer to dying.

So he needs to tell Hinata.

And then…?

“Naruto.”

“...Yeah?”

“You need to talk things through with Rumi first. If I was dating a guy who loved someone else...I wouldn’t want to be with him.”

He looks up then. “But I--!”

Sakura tilts her head in confusion at his rebuttal. “But what? You know..I’ve thought about this for myself, and, I would hate it, I would _really_ hate it, it might take me some time...a lot of time...but, I would leave him alone if he..if he told me he loved someone else…” She sighs. “Logically, I know that no girl deserves to be with a guy who doesn’t truly love her. And...a guy deserves to have someone he can honestly love.” Sakura’s eyes cast down to the floor.

He was about to say that he does love Rumi. That’s what he said to her before.

But he couldn’t say it.

He can’t.

Because he doesn’t. Not the way Sakura loves Sasuke.

Selflessly.

Untiring and devotedly.

He blinks, realization cold and clawing across his nerves.

He can’t believe he forgot...forgot what it was like to try to vie for Sakura’s attention. To see that he would never get her to look his way with that _impossible_ affection. To come to terms with that for his best friend’s sake because he cared so much more for their happiness than his own.

If he could have ever admitted it to himself back then, he would know that he was lonely. Frustrated.

But it was just another tally for his losses against the world, and he didn’t need to cut himself any deeper.

And yet here he is, dating Rumi because…

He just wanted a girlfriend. Maybe to feel better about himself. Or to feel more like a winner, less like a loser. More like an adult, less like a lost child. To feel deserving of affection, to have that for himself, from anyone who was willing to give it.

And...he thinks she could tell.

A spiraling, sinking pit forms in his stomach. How has he been making her feel?

If it’s anything similar to the loneliness that fueled his games for Sakura’s heart, he’s hardly grown from the child that played pranks for attention. Hurting others for his own gain.

If it’s any _worse_ than that…

Someone like him…

Selfish, immature, _cheating?_ ,

He deserves this chakra illness. If it’s any atonement, he should be suffering.

He squeezes his eyes shut hard, as if the black dark can make everything else disappear.

He didn’t mean to.

It didn’t seem like a big deal. Dating seemed fun. Rumi seemed like a fun, nice girl. She _is_ exactly that.

Someone good like her can’t possibly care for him the way Sakura cares for Sasuke, right? That’s just not possible, right? When she said she loved him, she didn’t mean it that way, right? How could she? How could anyone?

Did she mean it?

And he just…

He just? Said it back? Because she said it? Because she wanted to hear it? Because he thought he owed it to her? Or no, because it was just-

Three words. For kisses and boobs.

The nausea this time is different, his disgust at his own obliviousness, his willful incompetence, it’s a shame he can’t bear.

He lies down, his mind jumping between the possibility that she didn’t mean it that way, or that she really, really did mean it.

She didn’t mean it like Sakura says it, right? She hardly actually knows him!

...And he hardly actually knows her.

“Naruto?”

He almost forgot Sakura was here.

“Naruto?” she calls again.

He rolls over, opens his eyes, meets Sakura’s viridian.

“I can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to, but Rumi is still here. She’s waiting in my office.”

He closes his eyes again.

“Naruto?”

He keeps his eyes closed. He doesn’t want to think.

“Naruto?” She huffs. “...I’m going to go get her. After that, it’s up to you, but, for your own _life_ , and for _hers_ , too, talk to her. I think you need to tell her,” she finishes quietly.

_Tell her?_ Tell her he never actually Sakura-level-loved her? Tell her what exactly? The details of his illness? He opens his eyes in his trepidation.

“...Things can only get better from here, Naruto.” She stands, giving him another sympathetic look, before leaving.

Better how, exactly? Better for who? For himself, only? He can just continue on, doing things for himself?

*

“You...” Rumi breaks the awful silence between them first. “You’ve gotten worse than before.”

“Yeah…” He watches her, notes her sad expression. Notes that they haven’t smiled at each other in a long time. Wonders what she’ll look like when he tells her--

“What’s wrong? Can Sakura-san help you?”

He shakes his head. “She can’t.”

“What?” Her eyes are wide in alarm. “What, what does that mean?”

“It’s a problem with me,” he tries, but her shock only turns to confusion. “I…” he starts. He loses his train of thought. He takes in her small face.

She’s a small girl, but she’s small, too, in other ways. Just that much younger than him, slightly too young to have participated in the war, just at that age below him to be naive to his experiences. She’s pretty. A cute girl. Bright, light eyes. Even features.

How the hell did he get involved with a nice girl like her? How had he rationalized they would be a good match? She deserves someone so much better than him. Someone she can actually connect and relate with, someone who deserves her affection.

“You’re...not going to die, right?” she asks.

He hopes not. The idea of death still doesn’t seem real. “Rumi…”

She freezes, brows furrowing with concern, eyes wide again.

“I’m sorry.”

“...Wha-”

“We…” He steels himself, everything hardening along feelings of inadequacy, and pushes through. “...shouldn’t be together anymore.”

She blinks, alarm morphing back to confusion. “What, Naruto-kun, wha-, what?”

“Because you deserve someone better than me.”

“What? No, what? I’m happy with you, I don’t need anyone better, you’re perfect to me!” Her words rush out.

_Perfect?_ She’s always described him in a way that he can’t really identify with.

“Are you going to die?, is that why you’re saying this?”

He’s hurt her without even actually telling her anything. “No, it’s not that…”

Her eyes dart away, her gaze frantic before him. “Is it because of our fight?”

“No-”

“If it is, you know that I’m sorry! I didn’t mean any of it, we don’t have to do this-”

“Rumi.”

He watches her features scrunch up, crumpling inward, like she’s holding back from crying, and he knows, in comparison to any time before, he’s never made her look like this. Never made _anyone_ look this sad before.

“Rumi, I’m sorry, it’s just…” The tears glossing her eyes are a punch to his face. His fault. All his fault. “I can’t give you what you deserve.” Every word that he says, does it only make it worse?

“I-I don’t need anything, Naruto-kun. I really don’t need anything…” Her voice is thick, heavy, trembling. Her eyes are wide, unblinking, tears balancing at her lashes.

He doesn’t want her to cry. He doesn’t want to hurt her. He never wanted to hurt her, so...why? “You do, Rumi. You’re a great girl, and I’m just this...this guy. I’m not who you think I am, and I can’t give you what you...what you deserve.”

“No!, noo!” A sob shakes her voice. “I can change, if I was too needy, I don’t have to be, I can be better, too, I’m not, not anything, I don’t need anything…”

_Rumi…_ He watches in horrid self-loathing as a large tear spills down her cheek, followed by another one, and she blinks, her hands coming up to furiously wipe her eyes. He turns away, unable to handle it, comprehension failing him. How... _how_ did he hurt her so much?

“N-Naruto-kun, I don’t want to, I don’t want us to b-break up!”

His own throat feels thick. A heavy pinching in his gut makes it hard to breathe, and the guilt weighing in his conscience is too heavy for him to lift. He can’t look up. He can’t look at her. “I’m really..sorry, Rumi…” He is. But saying it doesn’t feel like enough. And there’s no way for him to show it. If he really, really means it, shouldn’t he be able to prove it somehow? When did he become such a useless bastard?

Her breath hitches, a choked sob that pierces the air awfully.

He bites his lip, the tension in her breaths impossible to listen to, and he knows that one look at her crying this hard would be too devastating, a memory that would damn every waking moment from now. He shuts his eyes, his hands clench at the sheets in frustration with himself. Every part of him is useless.

Worse than that.

Harmful.

His inability to comfort her, to make things right with her, only hurting her more. At this moment, his very existence is an ugly wound on her life that should never have been. All previous moments together now just shattered, brittle shards that will remind him of his foolish, foolish, stupid, stupid, self-absorbed dishonesty.

He can never ask for her forgiveness. He can’t explain himself. He can’t try to give excuses.

That would all just be for his own sake, and he doesn’t deserve any of it.

What’s wrong with him?

Why did any of this happen?

*

When she left, face in her hands, the sound of him breaking her apart still ringing in his ears, he stays where he is, unmoving emptiness throughout, and wonders.

If it’s okay for him to live like this.

If it’s okay for him to just go on.

He hurt Rumi, took her lightly, acted out of self-interest, and the worst part? He wasn’t even aware of it.

Was he always this selfish?

Will he always be this selfish?

The tugging on his mind tells him he hasn’t learned anything. He hasn’t grown, not even from tonight.

Because above everything, in the background of his conscience and at the forefront of the ache in his chest, is the itching thought of meeting _her_ in the morning.

He sickens himself.

He doesn’t deserve anyone or anything, affection or otherwise, so _how_ _dare he_ hope to see her, _how dare he_ want her to think of him.

He really is the worst kind of guy.

Just an absolute bastard.

*

When he wakes, he startles, the cold hospital air sore within his dry throat. He blinks against the bright morning sunlight streaming into his room.

Adrenaline spikes.

He’s late.

No, he already missed it.

He couldn’t sleep after Sakura checked in on him before going off-duty, parting with _“It was the right thing to do.”_ Right? Nothing was right about it, he’s only ever made stupid decisions, he’s only ever been entirely stupid. For his own abilities to finally back-fire on him, well, it was a long-time coming, wasn’t it. His regrets, every embarrassing, shameful moment building up to this, all the work he ever put in only to fail spectacularly, this is really the final blow. He thought he left his past failures behind him at the Academy.

When he finally dozed off, a welcome reprieve from his thoughts, he wasn’t even aware of it.

And now it’s too late.

Who’s to say she even went, right?

_She probably didn’t._ Because why would she. He’s not worth anyone’s time, and Hinata finally realized that.

That well-familiar sickness unfurls in his throat. He barely makes it, turning over and vomiting in the trashcan beside his bed. Somehow, it’s not _quite_ as bad as yesterday. A couple lilies less or something.

How sick is it that he’s relieved that Hinata and that guy broke up? If it’s anything like what he just went through with Rumi, he wouldn’t wish that on anyone, but...

_Who broke up with who?_ And why? It’s an awful, shameful relief to indulge in his thoughts, now free to wander to her without betraying Rumi. He absolutely disgusts himself.

He can’t stop himself.

He doubts that guy broke up with her. Why would anyone, right?

He’d never-

He coughs out leaves, the pain pinching and stinging in his chest, lasting longer than he’s used to.

Kurama can’t heal him as quickly as before. He’s really getting worse.

He huffs out a sigh.

Death.

What even is it? He doesn’t want to die. He still has so much he wanted to do.

Become Hokage.

He almost wants to laugh at himself, but he’s too disgusted to truthfully find humor in it. Anyone so inherently emotionally stupid as him shouldn’t be allowed to lead the village.

Not too long ago, he thought he grew up. He thought he was responsible. Saved the world, punched Sasuke really good, completed successful missions like nothing. He could see people relying on him. He maintained good relationships.

Who knew dating would reveal what a _fool_ he actually is?

The sound of wood and metal grating jars him from his depression. He blinks at Sakura, who’s standing in the doorway.

“Oh, you’re actually still here!” She sounds genuinely surprised. “Then, I’ll be the first to say ‘Happy Birthday’ to you.” She smiles warmly, but it’s marred by a tinge of pity.

He glances away. “Thanks.”

“And I’m not about to let this be the last time you hear me say it.” She suddenly appears at his bedside. “Are you ready?”

He stares at her. Her determination registers as only a terrible blankness within.

“I sent summons for Hinata. She’ll be here any minute.”

He sits up, blinking hard at his ex-teammate, but he only sees _her_ , creamy skin, peaceful smile. He’s not fucking ready to see her. He pulls at the cords monitoring his chest, and Sakura grips his wrists with such bone-bruising strength, he can’t help whining.

She gives him her infamous fake smile that speaks volumes of threats. “I’m staying here until she arrives.”

*

She rushed over as soon as she was called. The messenger caught her when she was nearly at home, and she changed directions immediately.

But now she stalls, taking slow steps down the hallway.

She can’t tell if it’s intentional, or if it’s the nervous apprehension numbing her extremities to a careful pace. She thought she couldn’t be any more emotionally exhausted, not after all the stress she put herself through earlier that morning, but it’s as if her mind and heart just have a thing for endurance. They won’t give her a break. She’s alert, everything racing like the adrenaline rush in a battle.

Just beyond this door. He’s there.

Really sick. So sick, Sakura must have called her for her Byakugan. Why _her_ Byakugan, out of all the Hyuuga in the village, she can’t begin to comprehend. Maybe it’s Sakura’s way of forcing her to get over Naruto, a self-evaluation of some sort.

She swallows her nerves.

She’s still in love with him.

And for whatever she’s worth, she’ll help him if he needs her. Even if just looking at him makes a new piece of her wither.

She knocks.

“Come in!” Sakura’s voice sounds out.

And so she does, sliding the door open, her sight immediately aligning with blue.

Her heart plummets straight down to her feet, the vacancy in her chest a sharp pain.

She slides the door closed behind her.

By now she should have said something. A greeting for Naruto. For Sakura.

She can’t say a word, but her feet somehow carry her closer to them, her knees locking with each step.

“Thanks for coming, Hinata.” Sakura looks at her, then at Naruto.

Naruto is staring, eyes too wide, too frozen, and she notices the dark circles beneath, then the slightly pale pallor of his usually tan skin.

He’s really sick.

“I’m going to leave the two of you alone for a moment. Naruto needs to talk to you.”

She registers that Sakura steps behind her, leaves the room, but she can’t break from Naruto’s stare.

Something’s really wrong with him, deeper than just an illness, and she’s suddenly scared. Not for herself. For him.

*

Her lips part. “Naruto-kun?” Her quiet voice, a nostalgic waver of trepidation.

It’s what he’s been wanting, needing, what he’s been dying to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Big sighs*
> 
> Thank you for your patience with me and this story. This is not what I really like to write. It's obviously not the most comfortable story to write. So thank you again for the encouragement and support, the art, the music, everyone who is appreciating what I'm trying to do here, your words mean a lot to me and help me to have more fun with this! (Not that I'm not already having fun...creatively this is a "fun" challenge.)  
> Ummm...also I've decided to moderate the comments. A couple weeks ago I got a slightly negative critique on my grammar and style, and I like, went OFF. It totally soured me all over until five other readers boosted me. So, it's become pretty clear to me that I don't handle criticism well at all, and everything including the goodness of my soul would be better off if I just delete anything I don't like. So yeah. Yeah. Just fyi I suppose, I guess I actually have zero chill when it comes to criticism O-O
> 
> Last note! Have you all read "21 Days" by BunnyHoodlum????????????????????? READ ITTTT.
> 
> Thank you for reading :)


	5. She's always (still here)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay, so it isn't much, but I finally updated *tears of relief* 
> 
> Also, please take a look at these angsty arts that shamy made with my story in mind! They're beautiful and so sad and shamy is just a genius at expressions and emotions and conveying all of the hurt and beauty. I sorta figured out how to do html for sharing this!!! btw these links redirect to tumblr, so do right-click, open in a new tab, to not lose this page:  
> [Hinata hiding](https://shamyliciouss.tumblr.com/post/188838858421/uffi-was-in-white-lilies-dayseternal-blog)  
> [Head and heart pain](https://shamyliciouss.tumblr.com/post/188882174236/i-need-a-therapistfor-real-now)  
> [Naruto's sick](https://shamyliciouss.tumblr.com/post/189739012886/i-try-to-distract-myself-with-white-lilies-not)  
> [Hospital confrontation](https://shamyliciouss.tumblr.com/post/188696577136/its-going-to-be-sooo-goood-cant-wait-for-more)  
> [White lilies](https://shamyliciouss.tumblr.com/post/188699074841/started-this-like-months-agofinally-got-the)  
> Shamy is too good to me TT.TT Thank you shamy. Really, really, thank you. I'm undeserving. Especially since this chapter is like...Idk. I sincerely hope you enjoy it! 
> 
> AND AND AND!!! Szajnie also made my story an art. So you know how I die whenever shamy popped up with a new art for me, and then if I was K.O.-ed already, this one on top of everything was just overkill.  
> [How do I help you](https://szajnie.tumblr.com/post/189430397863/dayseternal-blog-szajnie-patiently-waiting-for)
> 
> So yeah. Yeah. I always say I write for myself, but this one is for you guys. Shamy, Szajnie, Peppercorn, and everyone who commented, encouraged, and took a moment to check-in on me! I tried my very best, so I hope you enjoy.
> 
> *12/26/19 - I added on to the ending of this chapter and I am SO MUCH happier with it. It sets up Chapter 6's minor conflict.

The pale of her cheekbones, to the small of her chin, the deep rich of her lashes to the curve of her neck. Every line of her figure flows soft, the change in her expressions drawing all feeling out of him, centering and settling about her.

She’s always looked like she was cut from the edges of clouds and morning light. Her voice has always sounded of gentle humming as the village awakens.

So why does she make his chest tighten, his breath lock...?

When he still doesn’t reply, she takes a careful step closer, then another, until she sits down in the chair beside his bed. His eyes never left her, watching her, and so she waits, even as her worry steadily grows with each passing, silent second.

Like the push of high tide, grains of longing expectations inexplicably build within him. She’s here, just her, that guy is _gone_ from beside her, and it’s just them. 

“You needed...to talk to me about something?”

And just with that, the tide recedes, farther, drier than before. He’s reminded that she’s here because Sakura told her to come. He wills the burning sensation at the base of his throat down, he breaks from his thoughtless staring. He nods.

His silence is unsettling. Why is he here in the hospital? Why does he need to talk to her? Is something really wrong with him? Dread shortens her breath. “What is it?”

He glances back at her and feels her light gaze focused entirely on him, overwhelming him, like his heart is liquifying, flooding his airway. _Just tell her_ , but... Her countenance is too delicately fair, as beautiful as dreams rooted in him, and he’s awfully, terribly aware. Now. 

He can’t go on if she never looks at him again. 

Sakura said he just needs to tell her, right?

She whispers uncertainly, “Why are you here? Is there anything I can do to help?” She studies him, notices every wavering flicker of light in his eyes, the furrow in his brow, the drawn up tension in his jaw and neck. She’s never seen him like this before.

As if his very body is locking down his voice.

He can’t breathe. 

The weight in his chest grows and grows the more he tries to speak. Tight pain twinges beneath his collarbone.

Just tell her, just tell her, _just tell her_.

But what if she turns away? _(Her expression refusing him, words unnecessary, she’s always spoken louder with her actions.)_

There was a time, once, she said _“I love you."_ So long ago now, _(maybe he’s too late now)._ Too much, too late, if she really did _love_ , _(she already looked away)_.

He tries to swallow it down, he doesn’t want to be sick, he doesn’t want this feeling, he doesn’t want to be afraid, he doesn’t want her to see him like this, but it’s no use. He turns over, desperately trying to hold everything back, but somehow the pain is so much worse.

He blinks back tears. _(He knew it, somehow, that she was special to him)._

Large, fully bloomed lilies surge from his throat. _(Ever since back then, maybe even before, he knew she was supposed to be_ his _something special.)_

Sharp leaves scrape along his esophagus. _(He knew, but at the same time, somehow he didn’t know- didn’t- did nothing-)_

“Naruto-kun!”

He struggles for breath as he feels her fingers firmly pressing chakra points along his back, neck, shoulders, chest.

She watches the shuddering of his body marginally lessen as she loosens chakra points and seals others. The twisting of his chakra in his chest is violently thick, appearing almost astonishingly solid, with a web of chakra branching across his lungs, piercing throughout his body, up to his brain, down to the weakened fire in his core. The color in the abnormal pathways is not quite right, its natural blue streaking a warped, flashing, blinding white and florescent green. She sees the edges of the stalk in his chest fray, weaken, but not quick enough. She pulses her own chakra into his, hoping to disrupt the connections.

She gasps, eyes widening even more at the unusual sight. Knots of hard chakra peel and split apart, the numerous webs in his abdomen diffuse back into the main streams of his network, specks of white and green melding to a healthy blue in his system. The thick branch in his respiratory tract thins into a peculiar string with feather-like extensions intricately stretching over his lungs, all rooted in a stubborn ball of chakra the size of a pebble in the base of his chest.

He takes a large breath, the sudden circulation of air shocking him from the momentary, though all-encompassing, warmth of her chakra.

“Naruto-kun!” she calls again, kneeling lower, trying to see his face. “Naruto-kun, are you alright?” She studies him for any discomfort and unseals the chakra points she closed.

“Yeah,” he manages to pant out. He nods once, and realizes his mind suddenly feels clearer, too, as if a fog in his head dissipated. _Her chakra…?_ He feels incredibly lighter, physically and mentally. No longer sick to his stomach, the sense of impending doom he didn’t realize he felt now a distant, unfamiliar thought.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” she breathes shakily. She checks his system over, panic unsubsiding.

The pebble of chakra is growing. The web throughout his chest gradually elongating, thickening. She tracks the stretching ends of his illness, steadily piercing up his spinal cord. It’s nowhere near the mess of threads that angrily knotted throughout his network from before, but over time…

“It’s getting worse again,” she whispers, shaking her head in disbelief.

And he can sense it, too. Her focused attentions filling him with an indescribable self-consciousness, an anxiety that she can see more than just right through him.

She unthinkingly presses her fingers to the growing mass of chakra in his chest and floods the pressure point with her own energy. She watches her chakra mix with his own, disrupting the vivid green coloring, the pebble flaring under her onslaught. Immediately the roots and unnatural webs retract, returning to earlier. But it’s somehow not enough. The pebble still sticks inside him, rooted, strange. Faint lines of chakra trace along his respiratory tract. It all almost resembles a tree or plant.

She relaxes her sight and tries to gauge his expression on his downturned face, then notes a shine along his hand...from tears or saliva, she doesn’t know.

And she’s reminded that he was choking; something _large_ was coming out of him. She turns to the wastebasket, but he grabs at it.

“Don’t- don’t look.” He’s breathing hard again, his chest heaving in panic against the metal. He frantically pulls the plastic closed, its sour smell sealed within. Somehow, for some reason, he can’t stand the idea of her seeing them. The disgusting evidence of his wrongs.

She frowns, wills herself to look him in the eyes and hold his gaze. He’s obviously ashamed, likely also embarrassed. He’s always been too independent, too self-reliant to ask for help. But he needs to know that he has nothing to be ashamed of in front of her. “I can help manage your symptoms as much as possible while Sakura-chan finds a cure.”

He moves the basket to the other side, away from her. “Hinata…” Just her name is painfully warm. Uncomfortably soothing like her chakra. “That’s not-”

“I can easily track your illness, and so I’ll be able to effectively repress its growth whenever necessary,” she continues, intent on convincing him. “I’m sure Sakura-chan is busy, that’s why she suggested me, right? And I still haven’t used this year’s personal leave days. I’ll do anything I can to help you, Naruto-kun.” She pauses, realizing belatedly how she somehow can’t stop herself from showing him how much she _still cares_. However now is not the time for her to regret her words. 

Her sincerity leaves him speechless. His senses numbing like when she first entered his room. A yearning for more.

But she stands.

“I’ll go tell Sakura-chan that I can help.”

He straightens, instinctively trying to stop her from leaving.

“It’s okay,” she reassures, resisting self-consciousness. Maybe he doesn’t want to use her... “Don’t feel bad,” _for me._

He’s left sitting there, watching her leave, wondering why he couldn’t stop her from misunderstanding, why he didn’t try to correct her.

Why he could hardly speak at all to her. He’s hardly himself, hasn’t felt like himself in a long time.

His emotions feel haywire, like any little thing about her tips him off-balance into anxiety.

Practically fear.

Fear of…

Her chakra felt like a hit of bliss to his system. So warm, so calming, a satisfaction and peace that simultaneously revitalized him for those few seconds. He missed it as soon as she stopped. Sensed that he _needed_ it. Her.

Dread fills him, the weight not unbearable like before, but steadily, surely pooling within him. This temporary period of relief, obviously thanks to her intervention, just further proof to him. 

He gets it now. But he can barely acknowledge it.

It’s not going to be enough to just tell her. Nowhere near enough, and that’s...that’s why he couldn’t do it.

*

She exhales, a long breath.

Yes, she was fine.

When it comes to him, she’s always been able to put everything else aside. In truth, her unrequited love never used to be a problem for her, she never, _never_ expected anything from him.

She’s not sure when that changed, when she started to truly hope...well, it doesn’t matter anyway.

She slides the door to the office open.

Sakura immediately looks up. She stands abruptly. “Did he tell you?”

“He didn't tell me about his illness, but I can help him,” she reports. A determined resolve fills her. She follows through on her promises. And this is one she knows she _will not_ fail.

Yet strangely, Sakura’s brows furrow, her mouth falling open in a silent exclamation, her entire expression asking a very confused, “Huh?”

Sakura’s reaction pulls her off-guard, but she realizes that she should report the information she found while using her kekkei genkai. “His illness seems to respond well to chakra interruption. I checked and could see his illness significantly receding whenever I shared chakra with him, but it doesn’t go away completely. It starts growing back almost right away. I can make sure to repress the worst of his illness until you find a cure.” She steels herself for what she wants to ask. “Can you tell me? How bad is it? I want to do my best to help him.”

But instead of answering, the medic-nin’s cheeks pull up in disbelief. She shakes her head slightly as several thoughts apparently rush through her mind. “Hold on a minute.” Her voice almost sounds...upset.

Hinata doesn’t have time to question her as Sakura rushes past her and disappears down the hall.

*

He sits up quickly as the door pulls open, but it’s not who he expected.

Sakura’s eyes are wide, livid. She pushes the door closed firmly. “Why didn’t you tell her?!” She marches up to him, her very stance demanding his obedience.

His mind flashes through everything he’s been figuring out. It’s hard to put into words. He shrugs, shaking his head. “I couldn’t.” He points at the trashcan, hoping that explains everything.

Sakura opens a drawer, pulls out a new bag. Grabs his mess away for disposal elsewhere, undeterred by his stink body fluids. “Do you want me to do it for you?”

“No!”

“Well I will if you don’t!”

“No, I don’t want you to do it!” 

“Why not? All of this will be over the sooner you do it!”

“You don’t know that! What if she hates it?” He knows “hate” is a strong word, he’s almost certain Hinata would never “hate” anything, but that terrible doubt is still there, stronger than anything he’s ever felt before, an anxiety that he’s never had about _anything_ before. “Sakura-chan, if I tell her, and she...she…, I think it really will be over for me.”

Sakura calms, lips pinching into a sympathetic frown. “Hinata wouldn’t hate it.”

“I know that.” Logically, he knows. “But she could still…” _Reject me._ Itchiness crawls over him, stress grabbing at his muscles, the weight in his chest doubling, bearing down like he’s going to have a heart attack.

“She won’t.”

He squints at her. It’s hard to focus, the pain in his chest, in his _heart_ , aches, pinches acutely.

And Sakura stares back, her brows furrowing intensely. She breathes out in a decided rush, eyes piercingly locked onto his. “Hinata loves you.”

Jitters rush through him, expectations growing, hopes stretching higher. Only to be slammed back down with an image of her with _him_. Even if they broke up, that doesn’t mean… “She was just in a relationship with someone else.”

“And so were you,” Sakura points out, brow arched.

“But that’s because-!” He stops. It feels impossible. He can’t tell her, after all, _he was just in a relationship, too_. She wouldn’t believe him. She wouldn’t accept him on principle.

“Look, I know how it sounds, but it’s the truth. She was trying to get over you because you were dating Rumi.” She pauses, frowning. “Hinata will hate me for telling you that, but it’s really the truth, and you need to know it. I think Hinata would forgive me if she knew you were going to _die_.”

 _She loves me?_ It doesn’t sound real. _She_ still _loves me?_ Even after he dated-- “She doesn’t even know I broke up with her.” It’s really all impossible. Too many “if”s for a success rate. He has no idea if Sakura’s telling the truth. It sounds too incredible anyway.

“So tell her everything. Or I will.” Sakura stares at him until he nods. “I’m going to bring her back in here. I want this all cleared up by the end of today, Naruto! Honestly, if you were in my position, you would see how simple this all really is.”

Is it that simple? Does Hinata really love him? Still? For how long? Why? Really? Is Sakura lying to make him feel better?

Sakura lets out a long sigh. “Are you sure you don’t want me to tell her? At least about your illness? She was asking when I left her in my office.”

“No.” He doesn’t want Hinata to know about any of this, he wishes this disease had nothing to do with her. “Don’t tell her anything.”

“Then you really do need to tell her, Naruto.”

He feels like he’s been hearing that all day, all night, for a long time, even since before. He’s been needing to talk to her, talk to someone, tell someone something, and he’s tired.

He’s so tired.

Exhausted.

*

When Sakura barged back into her office, she stepped right up to her. Hinata was about to step back, but Sakura grabbed her hands, holding her in place. “Hinata, I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“You believe in Naruto, right?”

She nods, trying to follow along.

“No matter what he says today, you need to believe him, okay?”

“Oh-”

“Okay?” Sakura repeats.

She nods, anxiety rising. “Okay.”

“He really needs you.”

Sakura’s words make her stomach flip, but she tries her best to ignore it. “How bad is it?” she asks instead.

She shakes her head. “Naruto doesn’t want me to tell you anything.”

“It’s that bad?” she whispers. If Naruto doesn’t want her to know, then...

“The solution is easier than it seems. But it’s up to Naruto.”

She tilts her head in a question.

Sakura doesn’t elaborate. “It will work out. Go to him, okay? If you need to leave for any reason, let me know before you go.”

She nods, fear steadily rising. There’s no reason she can think of that would possibly keep her from leaving now. How bad is it? It’s so bad that he doesn’t want her to know. She rushes to his room faster than any feelings of self-pity could possibly stop her, finds herself at his bedside much more easily than the first time, and hears herself asking her unanswered question once more. “Tell me how bad it is, Naruto-kun.”

But her question hardly registers. Suddenly, she’s before him, and he doesn’t feel tired at all. _She loves me?_ It’s the only coherent thought he holds, staring at her again. He feels himself falling into her gravity, his awareness of her hyper-sensitive, as if he can feel her presence pressing onto his skin without even touching her. He looks away, unnerved. “You broke up with-” _that guy._ “...Susumu.”

She’s jarred away from her thoughts. He already knew? “Yes,” she murmurs, wondering why he should concern himself with that now of all times. 

“Why?” And he’s looking at her again, this time, his gaze searching, and she feels compelled to be honest.

“It wasn’t meant to be,” she answers softly.

He tried to tell her so. He knew it wouldn’t work out, but now he wonders how much of that judgment was colored by his own feelings. “...Why?” he asks, unable to stop himself. “Why did you try with him?” Was she really trying to get over him by dating someone else?

“W-why?” She blinks. “Because he was nice, and…” She’s told him this before, why is he asking again? Now, of all times? “Because he asked, and I...I was trying to-” She doesn’t need to say it, _Doesn’t he already understand?....from that time outside his apartment?...or does he really not know that...?_ “I was trying to find love,” she explains quietly.

Her whispered words don’t give him any relief. It’s sudden, the onslaught of questions that rises in him. It’s overwhelming, how desperately he wishes to know every detail, how awfully aware he is of his own jealousy, how disgusted he is in himself. He wants to repress his reactions, he wants to control himself, he wants to listen to the voice of reason he knows he still has. Yet there’s no relief from any of it. His emotions drag him under, and he struggles to deny them.

 _Why didn’t she--? If I had asked first--? Just anyone could--? Because he was nice? Because I was dating--? If she_ loved _me, then why didn’t she--?_

She watches his glare, a rotten expression directed at the far wall, with increasing concern. His prolonged periods of silence aren’t like him at all. “Naruto-kun,” she calls, hoping to bring him out of his thoughts. “I know I made a mistake, a really stupid mistake, but I’m doing fine. It’s okay.”

Her calm voice aggravates his nerves, makes him feel _sharply_ that even if she’s okay, _he’s_ not okay. He hasn’t been okay for a long time, and for her to brush everything off like it was just a...just a mistake?...somehow, it’s not fair…

“I wasn’t okay before,” she murmurs. She notices how he’s watching, listening, with an intensity that makes her want to shy away, but she forces herself to continue. If only to affirm herself. In front of him. “I made a poor choice when I wasn’t ready. I know that now. But I’m learning from my mistakes, and now I know not to rush. Otherwise I’ll hurt others.” She steadies herself under his stare. “And myself. But I’m doing better now. Every day is better than the one before.”

He understands that if she’s fine, then he should be glad for that. He thinks he knows how he _should_ feel. But his unjustified anger continues to simmer, bubbling over. To put words to it would be wrong. It would be wrong, and he tries to swallow it back, but he feels his temper flaring under his skin. He doesn’t know if he wants to yell or cry, or just…

He feels sick.

The color in his cheeks flush red. Then pale white. She grabs his wrist and pushes her chakra into his skin. She’s shocked by how quickly his illness reformed in the ten or fifteen minutes she was away, and how quickly the unnatural chakra pathways clear once more with her energy. “Naruto-kun, are you alright?!”

It’s a wonder. So close to what he wants, needs, desires. Her chakra is a medicine that cleans him up, purifies his mind, and soothes all the pains in his body. But even if she gave him all of her chakra, it would never be enough.

“Naruto-kun?” she repeats. His blue eyes, usually so lively, appear dull now. She’s never seen him look so tired.

“Sorry,” he mutters.

“No,” she negates quickly.

He breathes deeply, trying to calm himself, exhaustion settling bone-deep. He buries his head in his arms, bent over his knees. He stares at the white sheet, finally finding words to his frustration. “What about me?”

She leans forward, unsure of his mumbling.

He shuts his eyes tightly. His hands clench into fists. He looks up and finds her eyes wide, surprised, at meeting his so suddenly. “I broke up with Rumi.” He watches her lashes lift, her eyes widen even more. “I made a mistake. I should have never dated her. I tried to rush things. I hurt her. And now look at me.”

She holds his intense gaze, all feeling leaving her. Like he pulled the floor from beneath her, her body suspended mid-air. 

_“What if Naruto and Rumi-chan break up. What would you do?”_

She doesn’t know. She hasn’t known. Her mouth opens, she thinks to offer her condolences, _I’m sorry to hear that._ After all, isn’t that what he wants from her? Her listening ear, the endless patience she holds for him?

And she’s said that, before. When he told her that he broke up with Kanae. She latched down on her feelings and listened to him describe the situation with his new ex-girlfriend.

 _He shrugged and frowned. He said he “didn’t get it.” She nodded sympathetically. She told him that if he wanted to talk about it more, she would listen. He described Kanae and everything he didn’t understand, and she realized that though he was sad about breaking up, he wasn’t really sad about losing Kanae. For a time, it gave her misguided hope. She wanted him to see that she would be there for him. A part of her wanted him to see_ her _, but she didn’t want to take advantage of his wounded self-esteem. She didn’t ask him out, she didn’t want to be another Kanae, another girl to date...she didn’t want to be just a friend either._

In the end, here, it seems like it was exactly that--he took her constant companionship for granted.

So she’s not sorry. Naruto didn’t seem sorry to hear about her breakup. Not for one second. If anything, his questioning sounded like an “I told you so.” 

He not once supported her efforts, rather he seemed to actively try to discourage her. Really it’s no wonder that it never worked out with Susumu. If she had received Naruto’s support, even just once, she would’ve tried harder. She wouldn’t have kept looking back at the boy she promised herself to move on from.

So she’s really not sorry, either.

It feels hotly wicked of her to even consider. She knows she should feel sorry for Rumi. She knows she should feel sorry for Naruto. But she balls this rare, secret feeling up and holds it close.

And for how contemptible her disinterested feelings are, she can’t really find any fault with it. After all, she just went through a breakup. Is it really so wrong of her to not mourn his?

She looks directly into those eyes that used to unnerve her so easily. His usual bright strength isn’t there. Whether due to his breakup or his illness, she isn’t sure which is more at fault, but both at the same time would wear anyone out. Even Naruto. She understands... “I see you,” she replies. “I’ve always seen you, Naruto-kun.” She pauses there, just to feel the impact of her own words. She keeps that hurt close, too. It’s her own. She takes a deep breath. “I can’t offer you my sympathies this time, and I hope you understand.” She gives him a small smile, pained. “You know how I...felt about you, right?”

He stills, every small motion that she unconsciously tracks frozen. She realizes he stopped breathing, that he’s waiting.

Her heartbeat slows, a dull thud, like time itself is pulling around this one moment. If not sympathy, she can at least give him honesty. Maybe if she had just confessed, laid her feelings bare a long time ago, been rejected outright, she wouldn’t still be hung up on him. Maybe she owes this to herself, too. Everything she’s held on to, she’s always wanted to give it to him. Just finally let it go, even if she didn’t plan for this, even if the timing isn’t right or special for either of them, even if it won’t lead to anything, she might not get to hold his attention like this again in private before he moves on to the next girl. “...You know that I loved you. I still do.” Tears shoot up unexpectedly, her throat thickens, and she swallows it down. “And I know you don’t _see_ _me_ that way. But I’m not perfect. I’m still working through my feelings. So I hope you understand that I can’t listen to you this time. But I’ll always be your friend no matter what.”

She expects him to nod, at least, in reaction.

His shoulders rise, his face neither upset nor sad, instead rather blank, almost as if her words went through one ear and out the other.

For how focused he seemed before, she wonders if he was listening at all.

His jaw drops, his expression openly processing her words. “You-” His gaze centers on hers for a second. Then enlarge, shuttering panic shocking his eyes, he turns away.

He’s burning.

 _“I still do.”_ \--trembling words raging in a fever beneath his skin as he empties himself. His stomach is tight, twisting, turning itself out. His throat is on fire as he hacks out stiff stems, scratching leaves and long petals unfurling heavily into a soppy puddle soaking through the sheet into his lap.

Vaguely he hears Hinata’s panicked cries, more prominently he feels her soothing chakra seeping into the corners of his being. A trickling, tickling sensation starting from his back, up his spine, running through him like the sun against his skin in the spring, hot, cold, hot, cold. It spreads, he can see it behind the dark of his eyelids, glowing brighter, whiter, warmer, until he feels essentially himself.

There’s no question that it wasn’t a disease inside of him--it was a hollowness, an emptiness, that’s finally been filled.

He passed out. His system is completely clear. No knots, no webs, no stubborn balls of green and white chakra.

She ignores the pile of sticky lilies over his lower body, intent on watching his lungs expand and compress rhythmically, easily with breath. From what she can tell, he appears to simply be sleeping.

A nurse ran in, then rushed back out to get Sakura.

Whenever her mind tries to make sense of Naruto’s behavior, she shakes it away to refocus on his physical health.

The rolling of the sliding door and footsteps alert her.

“How is he?!” Sakura rushes up next to her, freezing at the sight and sickly sweet smell of the blooms over the blanket.

“He’s breathing regularly, his chakra system appears to be clear of the disease, I don’t see anything out of the ordinary,” she breathes out in a rush. Although he seems completely undisturbed, the obviously _unordinary_ lilies covering him baffles her to the point that she can’t even question it. She’s never seen such a phenomenon, and it _nags_ for her attention. “After he threw up...um...the sickness seems to have disappeared.”

An audible breath leaves Sakura. She wraps up the mess, tying the blanket together in the corners and dropping it into a waste bin. Her glowing, green hands hover over his torso, then the pit of his stomach, then up to his forehead. “He’s clear,” she declares. She lets out another sigh. This one of apparent relief. “Now we just have to wait for him to wake up.” She turns around to her, a gentle smile on. “So?” She tilts her head in a question. “He must have told you?”

It takes her a moment to focus on Sakura’s question, the sudden change in topics. What about his vomit? He’s really fine? So suddenly?... She slowly nods, remembering how he told her that he broke up with Rumi. “I tried...but...I couldn’t sympathize with him.”

Just like earlier, Sakura appears openly confused, biting down on her bottom lip, brows furrowing. “What did you two talk about while I was out.” An authoritative demand for information, not a question.

Hinata blinks, coming to the conclusion that she’s missing something. The pieces are here before her--Naruto’s strange behavior, Sakura’s impatience, the mess of lilies, the fact that _she_ was called to help Naruto-- “He, um, told me he broke up with Rumi-san.”

Sakura nods, urging her on.

“And then, then I told him that I couldn’t offer him any condolences. Because I...I told him that I love him.”

Her green eyes widen, brows raising high enough that wrinkles form on her forehead. “Hinata, _you_ told him?”

She nods. “I felt like I needed to tell him so that I can finally move on, and I didn’t know when I’d get another chance to say it.”

Sakura turns away and stares at the sleeping boy, chin pinching upward in a small frown.

“Sakura-chan, is Naruto-kun really okay now? What’s going on?”

But Sakura just bites her lips and shakes her head. “I really wish I could tell you, but I don’t have Naruto’s consent. He should be fine now. His vitals are normal. Ask Naruto when he wakes up.” She turns back to Hinata, a secretive smile now curling her lips and cheeks. She opens a cabinet and spreads a new blanket over him. Stretching her arms high above her head, she heads out of the room, little smile still on. “I should’ve locked the two of you in a room a long time ago.”

“Wha-”

“Don’t leave without notifying me first!” And Sakura shuts the door.

Unwilling to bother the busy medic any more than she already has, she huffs out her confusion in an agitated sigh. She can only wait. She glances back at Naruto, who’s peacefully sleeping, completely passed out. 

He probably won’t wake up for awhile if he exhausted his chakra.

She checks Naruto’s system once more.

All seems well, indeed, his core already burns stronger than before.

 _What happened?_ One moment he was so sick. The next, it was as if he threw up his disease, and Sakura hardly seemed surprised at all. 

And his reaction to her confession? 

He threw up in reaction? Or was that just a coincidence of timing?

She frowns once more, brows furrowing. She really chose a terrible time to confess. Of all the times to confess again, she decided now, while he was obviously extremely sick in the hospital, was the time to do it, and he threw up right after, then passed out…

Maybe Naruto wasn’t ready to hear it directly from her, after his breakup, and the sudden confession literally _shocked_ the sickness out of him in a pile of... _flowers?_

It’s too late now, useless to regret the complete lack of passion and meaning in her confession... _W_ _hy lilies?_

Maybe it was all for the best? If that means he’s better now... _Lilies?_

There’s no making any sense of it. She just has to wait for him to wake up.

So she fixes the corners of the blanket, smoothes it out across his body.

Then sits there.

Trying not to look at the golden shine of his lashes and brows. Trying not to follow the strong line of his jaw to his neck. Trying not to admire the birthmarks across his skin.

She closes her eyes, sits back, and lets the long morning seep out.

The chair next to his bed is empty.

He sits up and finds her, curled up in a more comfortable armchair against the wall, asleep.

She stayed with him.

She still loves him.

She really said that.

That same tickling, warm feeling rises to his face. _Hinata_. She loves him. How deeply, how meaningfully, he doesn’t know, but it’s there. Those words are still inside her, just like Sakura said they were. That... _love_...is still there, for him. She’s here, with him. And he couldn’t tell it to her before, but now he can. He can.

Whatever twisted him up before is gone. That blockage of the mind, that physical confusion in his gut, that solid fear in his chest, gone. The haze before his eyes, in his heart, in his memories, completely clear.

He hasn’t felt this good in ages. Focused, capable, purposeful.

And Hinata...he’s been making her wait for...a long time.

“Hinata.” He clears his throat, trying to find his voice. “Hinata.”

She stirs, eyes scrunching for a second, flying open the next. She startles upright. “Naruto-kun. You’re okay!” A relieved smile lights away any dazed remnants of sleepiness.

She really _still_ loves him.

It’s an incredible miracle. He’s been making her wait, yet, somehow, he’s not too late. And he doesn’t want to ever be too late. With the beams of strong sunlight coming in through the window, a few hours passed while he recovered. He doesn’t want to make her wait a minute more. “Hinata, I love you.”

She doesn’t say anything. Her smile hardly changes except for a slight raise of the brows.

He’s not sure if she even heard him. “I love you.” The words hold more meaning to him than anytime before.

She looks down at her lap, sorting through her sense of reality, that she’s truly awake. She blinks, finding the smallest functioning of her body too detailed for a hallucination or dream. She looks up again and finds his gaze intensifying.

“I love you, Hinata.”

She realizes he’s really saying that. “Um.” She looks at where Sakura disposed his mess. Someone cleared it away while she slept. “Um.” Something is very wrong, but she can’t quite name her discomfort. Somewhere between his disease and this confession, this doesn’t feel quite right.

Her response has him wishing he could pull off his monitor, get out of bed, and close the distance. But that would set the alarm off. And an interruption right now is not what he needs. “I know you don’t believe me.”

Her eyes settle back on his.

“Hinata, I’m telling the truth. Is that okay? Can I love you?”

She studies his expression, searches for dishonesty or deceit...but everything about him is real. Logic of circumstance tells her that this isn’t real at all. “You..you mean it?”

“Yeah.” He watches her move to the chair beside him, determination solidifying stronger with her now closer. “I want to be with you.”

“Naruto-kun.” Is this how he started dating Kanae and Rumi? With sweet words any girl would want to hear? She knows he would never mean to lie. She knows he would never, never ever mean to hurt her. But… “You’re not just saying that because I confessed? Please, if you’re just saying that out of a feeling of indebtedness or sense of duty...”

 _Indebtedness? Duty?_ “No!” He grimaces at the implication, that she would assume that of him-

“Or because you don’t want to make me feel bad-”

“No, Hinata!” He fists the sheet in frustration. “I mean it! I love you.” Not just to say it back, not just to fulfill his wants, not just to be nice or do “what he’s supposed to do.”

She quiets, still unsure. She wants to believe him. Of course she wants to. “I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time understanding...with how sudden all of this is. You were just very sick, and you weren’t well, and I, I don’t know why...why you’re saying this? You just broke up with..with Rumi-san, and...”

Naruto averts his gaze. He didn’t want to explain his disease to her. It’s mortifyingly embarrassing. He couldn’t control his emotions. He was insanely jealous. His body started attacking itself. His power, his chakra, was making him sick. “Hero of the Hidden Leaf.” “Saviour of this World.” All just words, but he never quite realized how seriously he took them. His pride, his dignity…

If there is anyone he wanted to be cool for, it was always her.

But what is his pride if he fails her in this?... He nods, acknowledging her doubts, disbelief he already knew she would have. “...You told me that you still love me.” His heart burns at the memory. His face heats up at voicing it aloud. A giddiness clamors within him that he wants to revel in. If she’ll let him. “That healed me.”

Hinata’s expression squishes into the most confused he’s ever seen her.

And he knows he’ll need to explain more than that. “My chakra illness was related to my emotions. I couldn’t handle seeing you with that guy.” He still can’t handle thinking about it. He didn’t admit it to himself before, but now he clearly sees that he hates Susumu. He hates that that guy was with Hinata, he hates that it wasn’t himself. “I was really mad for a long time about it. I couldn’t do anything, and I didn’t _understand_. And I got sick because I was so messed up.”

She stares at him, his story processing. He’s really saying all of this. That _he was jealous?_ Because she was dating Susumu? She thinks maybe she should feel pleased, but, “You got sick because of me?”

He pauses at her worried tone, her eyes widening in panic, in guilt. “No, Hinata, no, it wasn’t because of you!”

She’s not at all convinced. Because didn’t he just say that seeing her with Susumu made him _messed up_?

“How do I say this...I got sick because…” He remembers Sakura telling him that he needed to express his feelings toward her. He remembers realizing that just confessing to Hinata wouldn’t be enough. From Hinata’s point of view, she would blame herself, but that wasn’t it. “I got sick because I have this intense feeling for you.” He blushes, finding that way more intimate to say aloud than he realized. “And if I kept holding it in, it had nowhere to go. I couldn’t talk to you or see you. I couldn’t act on my feelings. It made me feel empty. So it wasn’t your fault. It’s just that I...” He bites his lip. How many times has he said it by now? And she won’t believe him? Yet each time has been so _freeing_. “...love you.”

She’s breathless. It’s too much. His sincere words, his shy expression. And he loves her? “Naruto-kun…” _You really…?_ Her hands come up, covering her mouth, her eyes. She curls her fingers together just to find some grounding in herself. She finds his watching gaze again. She realizes he accepted her feelings, and she realizes that he really _does_ want to be with her. It’s unbelievable. But she believes him. “I love you.” 

Whispered words, but they’re loud enough to make his heart bear down. “Yeah?”

“Mm.” She nods, memorizing his lopsided smile. “I do.”

He reaches his hand out, and she takes it unhesitatingly.

The warmth of his hand, only outmatched by the brightness of his blossoming smile, spreading across his features into something wonderful. She’s seen it before. Last year, on his birthday. It’s not new, it’s been there, between them, and she felt it back then, too.

So she didn’t imagine it?

She blinks rapidly, willing back the heat behind her eyes. “Naruto-kun…”

“Hinata?” he answers, only to realize that she didn’t call for his attention.

She’s gazing at him with so much...so much...it makes him feel antsy, impatience clambering beneath his skin, a need to do more, more, more, yet all he can do is hold her hand tighter.

He needs to get out of this damn hospital. “I...can’t do much here. I need to get cleaned up. And I need to catch up on mission hours. But I swear that I’ll start proving it to you as soon as I get out of here.” 

She shakes her head. He really does seem better. Remarkably so. But he doesn’t need to _prove_ anything to her. “You need to rest.” 

He sits up straighter, vehemently shaking his head. “No, no, you have no idea, Hinata. I’ve been resting for almost a month.” Just the thought of lying around any longer makes him feel like vomiting. Metaphorically. He pulls the monitor off from under his shirt.

The red light starts flashing, ringing.

“Naruto-kun!”

“I’m done here,” he explains. He climbs out of bed, looks at her, and smiles.

So she stands, too amazed to be the focus of that warmth to argue, and follows him out.

He’s smiling at her, his eyes so bright and alive, just like before.

Like before, a year ago, when they’d pass each other in the village, and he’d stop to talk to her. Or before, when they’d eat ramen, sitting with friends, or with just each other. 

He’s warm. He’s inviting. He’s easy.

_He loves me?_

“You can’t leave, yet!!” A scolding voice. A nurse, hands spread wide open before Naruto’s shoulders, stopping him. “Haruno-san may have said you can be discharged soon, but you didn’t receive your final official screening! Now turn around! Get back in there! Go! Go!” The nurse is shooing him back into his room much to his complaints.

And she makes to follow him back in.

But left in the hallway with his back to her, with his muted voice within the walls of the room, she takes pause.

_He...loves me?_

That’s what he said just a minute ago. That’s what he said… He said he broke up with Rumi. That he never loved her. He said that he was sick. That he hated seeing her with Susumu. That he was jealous...and he was sick. Until she told him that she loves him. 

It sounds untrue.

But Naruto doesn’t tell cruel lies. He’s always been straightforward, someone to tell things the way he sees them.

He’s also always seen things in his own way. Worked things out on his own time. And she supposes this could be such a case?

So what makes her not believe him?

 _It’s just…_ She doesn’t know if it’s the suddenness of it all, or if she...just...can’t trust it. And why. Why can’t she trust his words? She used to think, after all, that they had something special. And here Naruto is, telling her that what she thought was right. They...do?...have something special…?...

She stares at the floor, emotions of joy, confusion, and worry jostling for space.

Sakura told her to believe him. No matter what he says today. And she knows now that this is what Sakura was waiting for her to hear all morning.

It really is too good to be true. She’ll wake up soon, all of this a fever dream. Maybe she passed out in front of Neji’s grave. Maybe she’s living in a genjutsu. The God Tree grew back. She knows she’s being ridiculous, but this whole situation has felt ridiculous since she woke-

“I thought maybe you left!”

She looks up from the floor, looks directly at him, and his anxiety settles just that quickly. When she didn’t follow him back into his room, he thought maybe she went home, maybe she changed her mind, maybe she didn’t want him anymore...but, he can breathe. She's not looking away. She's not pushing past him. She's not ignoring him.

He can _breathe_. She’s still here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that this chapter was different stylistically. I know that for many of you, it seemed like the deep POV split between Hinata and Naruto in the previous chapters was easy to follow, immerse, and engage in. But I had planned on this change from the start, I wanted the merge of the POV in the storyline to mimic what was happening between the characters.  
> I thought it would be easier to write because there would be less to write.  
> Oh wow, I was so wrong, it was so much harder to write. Hopefully it wasn't hard to read! This definitely is the longest confession scene I've ever written.
> 
> They still have a ton to work through, so even though I feel like I covered so much here, it was just the bare minimum TT.TT ugh. I'm not entirely happy with this chapter :((( but it's gotten to the point where I just need to post it. Can't wait for the next chapter to be complete lol  
> Then I can focus on NaruHina Year 2020!!! ahhhh!!!!!!
> 
> Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone :D
> 
> Thank you for reading <3


	6. Much more than friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For sure the second-to-last chapter. I've been working on this chapter for so long, 5 months ahhh, I could hardly stand to reread this again for what felt like the umpteenth time in my final round of revisions.
> 
> BUT LOOK WHAT'S BEEN MOTIVATING ME TO KEEP WRITING :DDDDD  
> A White Lilies [Art by Fishcakedoodles](https://fishcakedoodles.tumblr.com/post/611420732688334848/lately-im-posting-quite-frequently-only-because) of Hinata!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! She also goes by [Risemaclay](risemaclay-blog.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!!!! Thank you Rise!!!! I just love how you always portray Hinata so elegantly!!!!!
> 
> Please enjoy the NaruHina awkward fluff and flirting :)

The bustling activity of the hospital fades away as soon as they step outside. The silence between them magnifies in the bright sunlight.

She feels anxious, a small excitement fluttering about, as she follows him toward the road. Naruto has always done the unexpected, and with today, she thinks he’s really lived up to that reputation…

She has no idea what’s coming next for them. 

It leaves her hopeful, so, so hopeful, that she doesn’t dare speak. Out of fear of disturbing this dream, any wrong word could turn all of it into a terrible joke. 

Naruto stops.

She freezes behind him.

He turns around, looks directly at her, and feels his stomach drop straight to his feet. The question he wanted to ask forgotten.

She’s blushing so much, and it’s adorable.

He stuffs his hands into his jacket pockets, a reactive heat rising to his own face. The sudden onslaught of nerves makes him feel warm, as if someone just complimented him, and at the same time, he feels incredibly scatterbrained.

He feels like he can do anything or nothing.

Two steps away from remarkable or lost...

“Soo,” he regrettably starts, immediately and unfortunately finding himself weakly at her will, but he manages to continue, “...what are you doing now?”

“Oh, I, I guess I should meet up with my family...at the...cemetery. It should be about that time.” She sounds so soft, even to her own ears, she’s not sure if he could hear her.

But he nods. “Right...right.” Since the moment Hinata entered his room, he pretty much forgot what today was. So much happened just this morning, it’s a surprise that it’s still afternoon.

She peers up at him, trying to gauge his expression...muted, thoughtful. She decides against telling him that she went without him earlier. She knows the reason now why he didn’t show up, and she doesn’t want to make him feel bad about something that wasn’t in his control.

His disease, his explanation for it, it’s all _something_ she still can’t quite wrap her mind around. And she’ll dedicate time to mull over it later, but for now… “Would you like to come with me?”

“With your family?” he asks, a hand swinging up to work the uncertainty from his neck.

“Mhm,” she quietly affirms. “They won’t mind. I’m sure they’d love to see you.”

He didn’t get a chance to go earlier, and he really does need to pay a visit. Maybe without the flowers, he’s seen enough flowers for awhile...Neji would understand...Neji probably doesn’t actually care about the flowers, right? And if Hinata’s family won’t be bothered by him... “Sure, yeah, thanks.”

She hums a disagreement at his appreciation. He doesn’t owe her that, it should be a matter of course that he would be invited.

He smiles at her.

And with the way his gaze _lingers_ on her as they start walking once more, fluffed cotton fills her legs, her stomach, her head, and she feels she may be nothing more than a cloud in the sky. Any slight breeze from him would send her clear in any direction he pleases.

It’s headying.

It’s frightening.

Though no one gives them much of a passing glance, she wonders, what others must think of them together? How much distance between them is appropriate? How much distance was there before today?...Are they now more than friends?

So whenever thrust into an unexpected, socially nerve-wracking situation, her hands find each other, clasping together tightly.

His fingers interlace behind his neck, cradling his head, walking as if lying back in the grass. It’s always been a tried-and-true way to appear as relaxed as possible, even if he feels far from it. “You…” He frowns at the sky. “...didn’t go this morning, did you?” he finishes quietly.

“Ah...I did.”

 _She went. Of course she did._ It’s Hinata, and she’s always been reliable like that. And he...he didn’t go. His guilt darkens even the blue sky above. “Sorry...I wasn’t there.”

“Oh no. You were in the hospital after all.”

“Yeah but still. Sorry, Hinata.”

She hums another disagreement quietly, trusting that the nearing view of the cemetery will lighten the air between them with shared purpose.

Murmurings from somber crowds carry over the field. Families pray around headstones. Little gifts and flowers decorate every grave across the field.

But despite the numerous people, Naruto sees that no one pays him any mind. It’s a welcome surprise.

And their presence seems to be a welcome surprise, too, for the rest of her family.

Hanabi’s eyes widen. “Oh, Nee-sama, we would have waited for you, but none of us knew where you went!”

“I’m sorry, I was helping Sakura-chan at the hospital. Naruto-kun was there, too, and I invited him with us.”

He takes this as his cue, slightly dipping his head in a bow, awkwardly, to her stoic family.

In the following beat of silence, his eyes draw directly to the only reaction...Hanabi’s expression: brows arched high, a quick glance at her older sister, mouthing a silent _ohh_. A look that sends self-conscious warmth to his cheeks.

“Thank you for coming today.” Hiashi is as serious as usual, but the words sound genuine.

He nods, for lack of anything else to say. In front of all of her family, some he knows by name, some strangers, all of them in quiet appreciation of the moment, he can’t help feeling a little out of place, like their collective pressure on him just forces him to shut up. Unlike other families, noisier in their prayers and conversation, the Hyuuga are quiet. Silently cleaning and visiting graves of others besides Neji who were lost in the war.

Hinata has always been quiet.

And as he expected, this is the quiet family she’s grown up in.

The people who raised her into the person she is today.

Like Neji.

Hinata mentioned to him in passing the things Neji had done for her. Helping her perfect a move, build stamina, assist her when she strained her eyes. When he asked why she calls Neji “Nii-san,” she explained that he was more of a brother to her than a cousin. She said she understands why it might sound silly to others, since during the chuunin exams, in front of everyone, he so vocally demeaned her. How maybe to others, it might sound silly that even through that difficult part of their relationship, she still saw him as her brother.

He quickly reassured her that _“No, it’s not silly. I get it, believe me.”_ He understood. Perhaps better than anyone else ever could.

_She looked at him, eyes, usually so pale, shining warm. She smiled. Her head tilted, her bangs sweeping over, the white skin of her forehead peeking through. “Sasuke-san?”_

_He smiled, too. “Yeah.” That asshole of a brother._

_She nodded, her gaze drifting back to Neji’s grave, her smile muting to something lonely._

He remembers he wanted to hug her, words failing him when he could imagine what such a loss would feel like. He can still remember back on that time when he was afraid that he really did lose Sasuke. He turned his fear into determination to get him back...but Hinata can’t do the same. And in that moment, he wanted to hold her tight.

But he didn’t hug her, didn’t touch her. The very ache in his limbs to feel her weight solidly against his body, to squeeze her and never let go, made him freeze up. He couldn’t gather the courage to do it and he didn’t know why that would be so, when he’s touched her before.

He knows why, now. Aware of the heaviness in his heart, of how her loss felt like his own loss, of why standing next to her now makes him feel obscure, fuzzy, eclipsed by her.

The immediate thought that follows, each time, and he thinks he’ll never get over it, that it could have been her. It could have been her, and he always sensed that _that_ loss would have left him utterly, terribly helpless, a million times worse than losing Neji.

“Thank you” will never be enough.

But he prays it over and over. _Thank you. Thank you, thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Neji._

It’s endless, a prayer never meant to find closure or be restricted by time.

Yet the sun begins to burn low, and Hiashi approaches their quiet vigil. “Naruto. If you are available, please join us for dinner. We would be honored to have you.”

Her father’s kind offer is surprising, and it brings her so much happiness to know that his attitude toward Naruto has changed with the rest of the village. “Yes, Naruto-kun, please join us,” she quietly adds, hoping he can hear her sincerity.

He gapes at their invitation. No one’s parents ever invited him over. None of the adults liked him, maybe except Iruka-sensei, but his old teacher claimed once that he’s not much good at cooking, so they always just ate out.

Hinata watches his hesitation, wondering.

Naruto studies the man’s stoic expression. Does her father really want him for dinner? He’s probably just asking out of courtesy... “That’s really kind of you, Hiashi-san, but I need to head to the Tower before it gets too late.”

She tries not to let her disappointment show. He had been saying since earlier that he wanted to get back to work.

“Sorry, Hinata.”

“Oh, no...” She supposes she was never any good at hiding her feelings from him.

Hiashi nods. “You must be busy. Thank you for joining us today.”

“No, thank you for allowing me to join your family today, Hiashi-san.”

Her family starts heading off down the street, away from the cemetery gates, but she lingers behind.

Everything that Naruto said to her at the hospital was clearly direct, leaving no room for confusion. So why does she feel unfinished?

“Your family is leaving-” he starts.

“I know.” She looks up at him, as if his face will clarify her incomplete thoughts. 

He takes in her soft gaze and soaks her attention in. He doesn’t really want to go. He doesn’t want her to walk away, either. “Hinata…”

“Naruto-kun?” 

He reaches out uncertainly, his hand folding with hers, his grip light. He held her hand in the hospital. But suddenly, out here, it’s just...different. As if the soft connection is a thin thread, gently tugging at his heart, pulling it toward their entwined fingers.

It’s a familiar warmth. She never got used to holding Susumu’s hand, probably because she was always comparing it to this. Naruto’s warmth almost feels natural against her. She dares to think that it’s meant to be. It’s where she always wanted to be, after all.

“...Let’s meet up again.”

She nods, her gaze leaving their hands to look into his eyes.

Her earnest expression makes his heart squeeze, his grip on her smaller hand tighten. “I don’t know when, though.”

She nods again. That's just how mission schedules are. “Then, I’ll see you soon?”

“Yeah.”

She lets go of him reluctantly, backing away to rejoin her family, when she remembers. “Um, Naruto-kun?”

He perks up. “Yeah?”

“Happy birthday."

He shyly grins. “Thanks.” He’s not exactly sure if “happy” is the most accurate way to describe today, but it’s certainly been an unforgettable one.

She smiles a little more, taking in his warm expression, before reluctantly starting to turn around. She holds his gaze for one last second, then steps away to catch up to her family.

Naruto slowly turns toward the Tower. Some steps forward, though, has him glancing back, catching her looking back at him, too. Warmth rises to his face, as pink visibly tinges her cheeks. He smiles through it, widely, and turns around fully to wave at her.

She reddens even more. She waves a little, too, shyly, before turning around for good, dashing away. 

_She’s so cute._

And he’s so happy.

*

Kakashi puts him right to work.

He’s thankful for it. It’s such a relief to stretch out his muscles, to move, to get his chakra circulating and working in a _healthy_ , _normal_ way, to finally feel like his body is his own and not a victim to a force larger than himself.

That force being...death.

Missions remind him that he’s young and...not dying. Work makes him feel like he’s a functioning adult, doing what he’s supposed to do.

He remembers how he felt before. That month of confusion that led to anger, that spiraled into depression. A month of...kind of just...getting worse and worse and worse, and it was so completely unlike him. No energy. No direction. No sense of self-worth. He didn’t recognize himself.

He doesn’t even really know how to reflect on the whole thing.

 _Thing._ He really doesn’t know what else to make of it.

The descent seemed to happen so slowly, and suddenly he was in the thick of his disease before he realized it.

Then as quick as a snap, he was fine.

...That, too, his _cure_ …

He never gets too far in his reflection on everything he’s been through because he always pictures her soft, pink smile when they parted ways at the cemetery. She has the softest smile he’s ever seen, and he can’t wait to see her again, he just, can’t, wait.

He needs to verify her feelings again with his own two eyes and ears. With his hands, too. He’ll hold her hand again and maybe he can hug her. Maybe he can hold her.

He wants to hug her.

The thought always leave a vacancy he can _feel_ against his body, like she should already be there in his arms but isn’t.

On a mission like this, even with a fun teammate like Shikamaru, he finds himself thinking about her in a moment of downtime. Thinking about when they’ll meet again and what it will be like.

It’s real.

His feelings for her are an excitement and distraction quite apart from anything he ever felt for his past girlfriends.

...He pretty much never thought about Rumi while on a mission.

...Rumi…

He tries not to think about her at all. The memory of her makes him feel like a piece of shit.

He really sucked. He couldn’t even be a decent person, he really…

Anyway, he should just focus on his mission.

*

He’s been really busy, and she knows she needs to be patient.

But she can’t help but wonder if she’s just his next girl. She knows that just a week ago, when he told her that he loves her, she thought that he didn’t need to prove anything to her. She knows that she’s supposed to trust him, after all, Sakura told her so, too.

She _knows_ that she needs to not make any assumptions and just put her faith in him.

But...wasn’t it fast? Between his breakup with Rumi and his confession to her, wasn’t it...just... _fast_? She’s not sure exactly when he broke up with her, but Sakura would have told her something, probably, or the rumors would have traveled before Naruto would have gotten a chance to tell her. She thinks at the most, maybe a week passed since they broke up?

And, and! Between Kanae and Rumi! A little over one month. She thought that was fast, too…

She thought a lot of things.

She wondered if Rumi, a girl he seemed to hardly know, might be a quick relationship, like Kanae was. But Naruto and Rumi went out all the time. They seemed effortlessly happy together, going out on so many dates. They were seen all over town, eating meals at trendy restaurants, looking...cute...as everyone said.

And Naruto tells her now that dating Rumi was a mistake?

What exactly did he mean by that?

Is it because he was...jealous…...that she was with Susumu? And he got sick because of that? He...got...sick?

She even asked Sakura on a day-off what Naruto’s illness was really all about.

Sakura said almost the same things Naruto had said, just with more technical language.

That should be “proof” enough for her, right?

Somehow, it’s not enough.

...She needs to be patient.

*

She’s heading out on a mission with Kiba, Akamaru, and Shino when she notices Naruto with Shikamaru, making their way toward the Hokage Tower.

She doesn’t have time to wonder how to react when he completely stops in his tracks, obviously assesses that she’s leaving the village, and then runs right up to her. “Hinata! How long?”

She can sense Kiba’s and Shino’s curiosity. She wonders, too, at how obvious Naruto is making himself. But it’s also incredibly reassuring to know that he was hoping to meet up with her. “It’s just a one-way escort mission, estimated at nearly a week long.”

He nods, frowning, disappointment clutching his gut. “Alright.” He looks up to finally acknowledge her teammates. “Be safe, guys.”

Kiba smirks. “‘Course, man.”

Shino nods his appreciation.

“I’ll see you guys around when you get back.” Naruto’s gaze pauses on her, and she senses that he wants her to do more than just nod in agreement.

She tentatively smiles, hoping that he’ll smile back.

He does, a gentle one that she’s seen before from him on rare occasions.

It’s always made her heart flutter. She bites her lips, then responds, “We’ll be back soon, Naruto-kun.”

“‘Kay.” He takes a step back, knowing that he’s holding her team up from leaving.

She reluctantly turns around, waving goodbye as he waves a bit, too.

Kiba and Shino have the strangest look on their faces, like they’re thinking about _a lot_ of things.

They don’t divulge their thoughts to her, but she knows their worry.

It’s her own concern, too, after all.

_Be careful. But I can trust myself, too. And I can trust him...and be careful._

She wants to hurry back home, but as soon as they were ready to leave the Land of Water, a typhoon hit. All ships are docked until the typhoon passes and clears the surrounding waters.

So as rain lashes at the windows, they stay holed up in their accommodations, drinking tea and waiting out the storm.

Shino’s been unusually quiet.

She herself has had her own troubles, but both her teammates seem to already know that it’s regarding a certain old classmate of theirs (nothing new). However with Shino, who so rarely seems to have a problem he doesn’t already know how to deal with, she’s been wondering what could possibly be bothering him. So she asks directly, “What’s on your mind, Shino-kun?”

“Yeah, buddy, what’s on your mind?” Kiba and Akamaru jump onto a bed to listen in.

Shino adjusts his sunglasses. He takes a breath. “I have a decision to make.” He looks at them and sees that they’re listening. “I’m thinking of applying for the education program.”

Kiba’s eyes widen. “To teach at the Academy? That’s awesome!”

“...The application deadline is in two months.”

 _In two months?..._ “Good luck, Shino-kun. I know you’ll make a great teacher!”

“You’ll make a fantastic teacher! They’ll call you ‘Shino-sensei!’ like that,” Kiba cheers.

Shino looks between them, a tiny, amused smile on. “But I am hesitant. The reason is it would mean that I would not be able to go on regular missions with both of you anymore.”

Hinata and Kiba exchange looks, knowing that they both had already thought of that.

Kiba moves beside him, swinging an arm around Shino. “Listen, you’ll make the greatest teacher, even better than Iruka-sensei! Of course I’ll miss working with you, but, this is a great opportunity. And Hinata and I would never want to hold you back.”

Hinata is thankful for Kiba’s encouraging tones. It’s putting her in the right mindset, too. “Kiba-kun is right. We would never want to keep you from reaching for your goals. Do your best! We’ll be cheering for you all the way!”

“Thank you. I’ll miss both of you,” Shino says.

She shakes her head. “We’ll never be far away.”

“We’ll come and be guest instructors!” Kiba offers.

“Yes!” Hinata agrees. “We’ll always be your team.”

“Thank you.” His voice is heavy, emotional.

They smile together, and she feels tears coming on, but she doesn’t let them fall. She supposes they all knew this would eventually happen. The possibility of disbandment as they entered adulthood only increases with new responsibilities, new windows of opportunity, and challenges presented.

She just didn’t know it would happen so soon.

Sometimes she feels like it was only yesterday when she was selected for Kurenai’s Team 8. Sometimes it feels like a forever ago when the four of them were tasked with finding Madam Shijimi’s cat.

For the entire way home, they reminisce on their trainings and missions together and make promises to continue meeting up whenever they can.

It’s bittersweet.

To realize, not for the first time, how wonderful her team is. To hold so much excitement for Shino’s next stage in life. To hear Kiba’s plans for the future. To wonder about her own.

Maybe become a jounin sensei?

Maybe eventually work at the Academy, too?

To see that…

So much time has passed. She really has grown.

And she still has so much of life ahead of her. There’s no rush at all.

*

It’s a stroke of luck to see her coming out of the Hokage Tower. She’s smiling, looking well. She bends over to pet Akamaru.

She straightens and looks toward him, despite the distance.

 _So she knew that I was_ \-- He bites down on that memory and runs forward to meet them. “You’re finally back!”

“We got held up in the Land of Water due to a typhoon,” Kiba answers.

“Good thing you guys didn’t get caught in it.” He nods at Kiba briefly before turning his attention back to Hinata. “How was the mission?”

She almost wants to shrink away from his obvious, directed attention. It’s almost too strong. But no, she wants this. She really wants this. “It went well. There was one scuffle along the way, but they weren’t a problem for us.”

“Yeah, I bet you beat them up easily.”

She blushes at his confidence in her. It’s almost like from before...It reminds her of those times before he started dating.

Shino clears his throat. “Are you hungry, Naruto? The reason is, we’re going out to get lunch together.”

“Oh yeah?” He was planning on trying to get Hinata alone, but this is almost just as good. “Can I join?”

“No! No, no.” Kiba leans forward, his voice cutting Shino off. “We’re doing Team bonding, and if you come along, you’ll just ignore us and try to hog all of Hinata’s attention!”

Naruto frowns. Yeah, he probably would’ve but… “The three of you were together for the past week! More than a week! Isn’t that enough bonding time?” he protests. “Plus, Shino was about to invite me!” He looks at the quiet guy for affirmation.

But Shino suddenly looks as silent as a rock.

Naruto’s jaw drops in disbelief and betrayal. “Shino!”

“The reason is that Kiba is right.”

He rolls his eyes and looks at Hinata. “Hinata? You’re just going to let these guys treat me like this?”

She’s still absolutely red from Kiba’s sudden and shameless words. It’s the first time he’s verbally acknowledged Naruto’s attentions toward her in almost a year, out of consideration for her feelings. “Oh, I would like to, Naruto-kun, but…” She looks at Shino. “We’re not going to be Team 8, officially, for much longer. Shino-kun is going into education.”

Naruto looks at the usually stoic bug boy. This guy? With kids? A sensei? “What?! No way! Shino?!”

“He’s going to be a wonderful teacher,” Hinata states solidly, not leaving any room for him to not believe her any further.

He nods, getting used to the idea. Certainly unexpected, but has Shino ever been anything other than surprising? “That’s really awesome.” And he means it.

“Thank you, Naruto.” Shino looks like maybe he’s smiling.

And so he takes a step back from them, now completely understanding what’s going on. What wouldn’t he do to have just one more meal with his team, as if time never happened? “Hinata.”

“Yes?”

“Tonight? Dinner?”

She tries not to feel Kiba and Shino’s stares boring into her as she gives a quiet hum of affirmation.

“I’ll see you at your place around 6, then.”

“Okay.” She tries not to look as shy as she feels because Naruto doesn’t seem shy at all. And she needs to do her best to keep up with him.

“Great! Have a good lunch then, guys.” He waves his goodbye and heads off.

And then it strikes her.

She’s having a date with Naruto.

She’s really having an actual date with her longtime love.

He simply asked her out like no big deal, like this was the idea all along, and that the two of them are really, actually--

“So the two of you are a thing?” Kiba bluntly asks.

She turns to look at him, blinking out her disbelief. “I think so.”

Kiba seems to hold back a frown. “What do you mean, you ‘think so’?”

“I mean, he…” Self-consciousness floods her, but Kiba and Shino are both waiting expectantly for her explanation. So she quietly continues, “...said he loves me.”

Kiba and Shino exchange looks, nodding.

“Well, that’s what we’ve thought for a long time,” Kiba states before leading them away from the Tower.

Hinata stares at them, finding their simple acceptance incredible. She really _wasn’t_ the only one who felt there was something between them. But she can’t help needing that affirmation even more. It’s still something she can’t wrap her mind around. “You both thought that?”

“Yes, the reason is that Naruto has always paid more attention to you than any of us.”

She looks away, shyness warming her face. So it wasn’t her imagination? “...but…” Self-doubt rears up, making her feel suddenly slightly nauseous. “He dated others.”

“Oh yeah, Hinata,” Kiba starts, the roll of his eyes practically audible, “You could’ve…” His hands turn up in a shrug. “I dunno...tried to save his life a couple of times. Hold his hand in front of the enemy and the entire Shinobi Alliance. Eat out with him all by yourselves.” He gives her a pointed look. “And he wouldn’t have the faintest idea that any of it was romantic. Hm. I wonder why...maybe because he’s an idiot?”

She stares at him, processing his sarcasm, and Shino lets out the quietest cough of a laugh. She pouts at both of them for making fun of Naruto, but Shino clears his throat, obviously ready to launch into a long explanation.

And she really does want to hear it. Because, if anything, she has always interpreted Kiba’s list to mean that Naruto simply never returned her feelings.

“The reason is Naruto does what feels right, and if the outcome is fine, he will continue to move forward without reflection. Unless you force him to stop by questioning his actions, he will articulate neither his reasoning nor his purpose outside of the obvious goals, and he will not consider or care about how others might perceive _him_ , so long as he was able to manipulate the situation to meet his ends. The reason is--”

“Naruto’s a gigantic idiot,” Kiba interrupts.

“--because Naruto thinks he has nothing to lose,” Shino continues, unfazed. “Therefore he acts accordingly, always behaving as rashly as possible, not realizing that anyone might value him as much as he values others.”

“Or that,” Kiba tags on in agreement.

“The reason for that is,” Shino says with a sense of finality, “not very many people have stopped him to ask for his opinion.”

“What? He’s always airing his opinions.”

Hinata shakes her head at Kiba’s denial. “No, I...I think I understand.”

“Did you ever ask him why he held your hand in the war?”

Her eyes widen at Shino’s question. Of course she hadn’t! How could she ever ask a question like that?!

“Did you ever ask him what he thought of your self-sacrifice?”

“No!” she defends. “That’s embarrassing, I couldn’t have asked something like that! And...and I didn’t do any of that expecting anything from him.”

Even with his dark sunglasses on, she can see Shino’s measured look.

Kiba lets out a big sigh. “Hinata...those exes were pushier than you. And, I don’t mean this in a bad way or anything, but, well, it’s not like, uhh, well, I mean, Naruto’s an idiot, so, anyway, I get what Shino’s saying, y’know, Shino’s right, like, Naruto didn’t know you value him.”

She blinks at him, feeling inexplicably hurt, recognizing that they’re putting some amount, however small, of blame on her. “But...I didn’t know he values...me…”

They pause outside of Yakiniku Q.

“And that’s why we didn’t say anything about this when you were dating Susumu! He’s ‘pushier’ than Naruto! You knew for sure that he at least valued you, it was obvious to you, and we thought it was good for you! Both you and Naruto are the same!” Kiba’s voice had risen enough that other pedestrians glance their way.

But she doesn’t take much notice of them. Their words are putting all of her decisions, all of her choices to back away, to give Naruto space, to listen instead of probe, to watch instead of interrupt, into a different perspective. She did that because she respected _his_ decisions. So are they saying it was wrong of her? “I...didn’t know…”

“Yeah. We know. ‘S not your fault, Hinata, Naruto’s an idiot after all.” Kiba leads them into the restaurant, and the hostess takes them to their table.

When they’re seated, Kiba continues, “And anyway, the two of you are together now, so it doesn’t really matter anymore.”

She tilts her head, wondering if it’s true that it doesn’t “really matter”...

“I’m happy for you, Hinata.” Shino smiles at her.

She gratefully returns his smile.

“Yeah, we’ve all been waiting for this,” Kiba jokes. “Hinata, you have no idea, but this has been a long time coming between the two of you. Good luck with him.”

“Thank you,” she murmurs. Maybe Kiba’s right. Maybe it doesn’t really matter what happened before, who they dated, and what they thought the other was thinking. Because the truth is that...they love each other?

It’s a truth she’ll be able to experience later, and she’s left breathless in anticipation of the unknown. Logically, she shouldn’t feel nervous because she knows him so much better than she ever knew Susumu...but still…

Kiba snaps his fingers in her face. “Hey, focus on us.”

Her expression pulls down in an embarrassed frown. “I’m sorry. I’m just…” She shakes her head.

Shino nods. “You’re just happy.”

She ponders that for a second. She was thinking, more nervous or worried, but… She agrees. “I am. But not just because of Naruto-kun. I’m so happy that I have you two as my teammates.”

Hinata knows that they feel the same way as her by their surprised yet pleased smiles. They were and are lucky to have each other. She couldn’t have asked for a better team.

Kiba huffs out a breath. “Before I start crying, let’s order some food.”

“Agreed,” Shino states, unfolding the menu.

She laughs, so, so, so appreciative.

No matter what happens to them in their futures, she’ll always have Team 8.

*

He restlessly waits outside, arriving much earlier than acceptable.

He’s been waiting for this for almost exactly two weeks. And he’s readier than he’s ever been for a date.

Because he knows exactly what to do to make her happy. He has a lot of money in his wallet. He’ll compliment her when she comes out. He’ll hold the door to let her in first, he’ll pay, and he’ll walk her home. And at the end of it all, maybe he’ll get to hug her, hold her, like he’s been yearning for, but only if she seems open to it.

Only if she wants to.

He won’t rush this.

He’ll make sure she understands how serious he is.

Because despite the break-ups, he’s learned. And he’s not going to mess this up with Hinata _._ He completely understands what he’s doing with her and what this means for them, and, he’s not just doing this for fun, or because she asked him to, or to have a girl flatter his ego.

He’s doing this because...

He hears quiet footsteps coming from beyond the wall.

The gate pulls open.

And she steps out with a tentative expression that lights up into the shyest, cutest smile he’s only ever seen on her.

He takes a deep breath, grinning, unable to contain his excitement.

“I’m sorry to make you wait.”

“Oh no,” he dismisses. “I got here too early. I hope I didn’t rush you.”

She shakes her head. The truth is, she had gotten ready really early, too. It was a surprise to see him outside when she thought she was just being too impatient.

He feels giddy, like they have so much to do, but he knows now that dates need to be taken at the girl’s pace. That, in general, his ideas aren’t the most reliable, and that he should just let the girl pick. He tries his best to calm all of the adrenaline dancing in his veins. “Anywhere you want to go?”

She blinks at him. “Oh. Um…” She hadn’t thought about it at all. She had assumed that since Naruto asked her to dinner, he had someplace in mind? Like Ichiraku?... “I don’t really know...”

“Anywhere is fine, Hinata!” he encourages. “Don’t worry about me, I’m up for anything.”

She bites her lips, still surprised, not ready to think of a good place for their first date. “Um…”

He watches her smile slip into a look of discomfort. And he realizes just as quickly...he fucking forgot. In his excitement, he forgot to compliment her. Kanae always wanted to see if he noticed her efforts. Is it too late to say something?... He looks her over to see if he needs to comment on her fashion choice. She’s wearing her comfy-looking jacket, appropriate for a chilly night. He remembers what she wore with her old boyfriend...how she looked...different...yet tonight, she looks like she normally does. Jealousy pinches his gut, but he forces that down. It doesn’t matter. It’s not like he dressed any differently. 

Just in case, he should say something, especially if that’s why she’s being so hesitant. And, anyway, it’s not a lie, either. No matter what she’s wearing, no matter if she’s clean or dirty from a mission, no matter if her hair is up or down, it makes no difference to him. “Hinata, you’re beautiful.”

She pulls out of her worries at the compliment.

His gaze is focused on her so intently.

Warmth seizes her face faster than anything else. How could he say something like that to her so casually without warning? Isn’t that too much? She wasn’t even paying attention! Embarrassment has her shaking her head, shrinking back a step, refusing to look him in the eyes again.

Her reaction isn’t what he expected. Instead of a coy, pleased expression, she looks like she honestly doesn’t believe him! “You _are_ beautiful, Hinata.” Maybe she doesn’t believe him because she didn’t dress up? “You’re always beautiful.”

She gapes at him. Naruto has never lied to her. She has no reason to not believe that he actually feels that way. She squeezes herself together, trying to gather her wits about her. It’s hardly two minutes into their first date, and she’s already falling apart like she can’t handle him. Naruto deserves better from her.

She takes a deep breath and forces herself to really face him. Kiba told her that Naruto never knew how much she values him. And right now seems to be the time to start making amends. She steadies her gaze on his openly warm expression and finds the sparkling blue of his eyes. “Naruto-kun, _you’re_ the one who’s beautiful.”

He squints at her. “What?” he can’t help bluntly asking, a weird grimace cracking open.

“I mean it,” she quietly asserts, trying desperately to keep her blush at bay.

He shakes his head and lets out an awkward laugh. “Don’t joke like that with me, Hinata, that’s not nice...so anyway, is there anywhere you want to go?”

She blinks, jarred by how quickly he dismissed her heartfelt confession. “I...I guess...Ramen Ichiraku would be nice.”

His brows furrow. Why would she want to go there? Is she just saying that because she knows it’s his favorite? Why won’t she tell him where _she_ wants to go?

She doesn’t trust him enough?

She didn’t like that he called her beautiful, and then she turned it into a joke, too… Excitement begins to fade into worry. _Why…_ “Hinata...we eat there all the time, it’s not special to you. You don’t have to choose that for me,” he awkwardly mumbles out.

She tilts her head and frowns, realizing the way she worded her request. “I do want to go to Ramen Ichiraku,” she repeats, simply and clearly. She knows for certain that they’ll both like it.

“Uh, okay,” he relents. And then unwilling to risk making more mistakes, he starts leading them away from the compound.

They walk together, and he tries to find words for conversation, but suddenly, he doesn’t know what to say. He’s already somehow messed up because _of course_ he would mess up. So he shoves his hands in his pockets and keeps his focus on the road.

After a few streets of unusually discomforting silence from him, she can only conclude that he’s bothered. She gathers her confidence together. “Naruto-kun? Do you not want to go to Ichiraku?” Maybe he actually wanted someplace fancier? Maybe his tastes have changed? 

He shrugs. “You know I always want to go there,” he admits. “I just don’t want us to be going there if you don’t actually want to go.”

She...she was clear wasn’t she? She stated very clearly that she wants to go, didn’t she? “I want to go, Naruto-kun. I like their ramen a lot-” She recalls his earlier hesitation. “-And I think Ramen Ichiraku _is_ special.” She smiles at him. “It’s your favorite. That makes it a special place to me, too.”

He processes her explanation, the reasoning almost too simple to accept. “So...I’m not, like, forcing you or anything, right?”

She smiles wider, unsure of where he’s getting the silly idea that he might be _forcing_ her. “Of course not. If I didn’t want to go, I wouldn’t have chosen them.”

She’s saying that like it should’ve been obvious to him… It should’ve been. He forgot that Hinata’s always been easily uncomplicated with him.

“We’ve eaten there together before, like you said, Naruto-kun. And we’ve always had a good time there, right?”

He nods, recalling the same memories that she’s referring to. It’s sudden, a soothing balm over his nerves. Those times back then...she enjoyed them, too.

“It’s a good place,” she summarizes happily. “It’s a special place for me.”

Not that he wasn’t certain before, but he’s even more, completely, totally sure.

He really wants this to go well. Not _just_ nicely, either. He wants Hinata to have the perfect date with him.

But he has no idea now how he’s supposed to make that happen. The date didn’t start off the way he thought it would. It’s not going the way he thought it would.

Hinata’s not acting the way he thought she would…

Instead, she’s acting the way she’s always been.

Has it been so long since he hung out with her? That he forgot how easy it is to just be with her...no need for plans or strategies...that whatever he _thought_ , well, Hinata makes it so much better than that? “You’re really amazing,” he sighs out.

She shakes her head, believing him to be exaggerating over nothing. “Everyone knows how much you love their ramen, Naruto-kun.” She peeks up at his gaze, glad to see that he seems slightly more relaxed than earlier.

The storefront comes into view.

“I really did expect that we would be going here tonight,” she continues. “My heart’s been prepared, I was thinking about this all afternoon,” she laughs, breezing over the fact that it wasn’t really Ichiraku, but spending time with Naruto, that was on her mind.

He perks up at her giggle. “My heart never even needs to get prepared, I could walk here in my sleep!”

She nods, knowing full well that he probably already has. “Have you come in the middle of the night before?”

He raises his brows, grinning a _What do you think?_ , and she laughs as they take seats at the counter of the familiar establishment. “Hinata, I’ve come here at every single hour, if not every single minute, on the clock.”

She considers that his obsession sounds a little worrisome, but it’s also just so _him._ “That’s impressive!”

“Yeah, it is,” he brags, proud of being a round-the-clock customer.

Ayame comes over to them, cheerily smiling. “Naruto, Hinata, welcome!”

“Ayame-neechan, long time no see!”

“It has been a long time, hasn’t it? Now, what shall I get for you two?”

“I’ll get the large miso ramen with extra char siu.”

“I would like the same thing, please.”

His eyes widen, and he turns to stare at her.

“Got it! Please wait for just a moment,” Ayame promises before hurrying off.

Hinata notices his shock, understands that it probably has to do with her order, but she still asks, “Ah, yes?”

He clutches his jacket over his heart, incredibly thankful to be here with _her_. “You’re really amazing,” he reiterates, not knowing how else to articulate himself.

She hesitantly explains, “I had all afternoon to think about what I’d want.”

He nods, recalling the last time they ate here together, just the two of them. “I almost forgot how much you can eat.”

She blushes, knowing it’s not exactly the most ladylike thing, but to the utmost of effort, they came all this way here, she might as well take the opportunity to eat. “I-I thought it would be better if I just get the large serving this time instead of smaller servings.”

“Yeah, Hinata, I love it,” he bluntly states. Then repeats as realization hits him, “I love it.”

Shyness freezes over her, and she timidly looks up at him. She can remember the last time they came...

_He expressed enthusiasm about her order for another serving, saying, “Wow, you’re eating a lot, Hinata!”_

_And she fumbled out in excuse, “I guess I’m just hungry…” She actually just wanted to extend their time together._

_He smiled widely, bright-eyed, excited, and eagerly ordered more for himself, too._

But this time, he carries that serious expression from earlier and leans down, ducking his head to be eye-level with her. “Hinata, I love you.”

She can see vulnerability there, a precious, precious balance of uncertainty and trust. Bare and unaffected. He really means it. Even at such a sudden moment as this, or maybe because it’s in such an inconsequential, unplanned moment, she knows he means it. He really wants her to know it. Emotion wells up, leaving no room for air, she can’t breathe, she can’t speak.

He straightens, starting to wonder at her silence, beginning to notice that he was expecting a response.

 _What_ he was expecting...the lack of anything empties him. “So uh Shino wants to become a teacher?”

She blinks at the sudden topic. She can’t let this happen again. Kiba was right. She hesitantly pulls on the sleeve of his jacket and draws herself closer.

Otherwise he won’t be able to hear her over the hammering in her heart.

She averts her eyes, feels the blush spreading over her face, and whispers, “I love you.” She squeezes her eyes shut for a second and lets an easing breath out.

This somehow felt so much harder than her confession two weeks ago at his bedside, but the accompanying fluttering warmth here is much, _much_ nicer.

She settles back in her seat. Her gaze flicks up to his.

He smiles shyly, his pulse resetting double the pace as color floods his being.

He didn’t quite realize it, he had no idea how wonderful it would feel to hear those words returned to him.

He just carelessly tossed a part of himself out to her, expecting _something_ , not knowing he expected _those words_ , that exact piece of her given in exchange.

And it glows in him.

She can see it, just as much as she can feel the same blossoming within her. She thinks that if only he could see himself, he would see how beautiful he really is. She realizes she can’t let him get away without knowing she was being honest. If she needs to work on letting him know how much she values him, _she’s_ the one who needs to prove herself to him, not the other way around... “Naruto-kun,” she whispers. She can feel herself growing even warmer. “I really do think you’re beautiful.”

Sudden self-consciousness grips him, and he focuses on her.

But she doesn’t let his puzzled expression deter her, not this time. “Your smile is beautiful. Your determination is beautiful.” She looks away, down at the counter, as her bashfulness fights against boldness. “Your laugh, and your bravery, and how you treat everyone...I think everything about you is beautiful.”

She timidly looks up to see his reaction, but he’s looking away now. A hand works obvious discomfort from the back of his neck.

It reminds him of Rumi’s blind admiration. Hinata doesn’t set him up on a pedestal, too, does she? She’s always been kind to him, built him up in ways that others haven’t, but still...

“You _are_ ,” she whispers again, wondering now if she was too forward.

Certainly she thinks so...she actually wasn’t joking earlier...but he knows better about himself. He shines a quick smile at her. “Thanks.”

She can tell he’s deflecting. After all the times she’s done that with Susumu, of course she would know. She tries to think of a way to respond when a cry of “Oh, isn’t that Naruto-senpai!” and hushed murmurings behind them catch her attention.

“I haven’t seen him in so long!”

“Should we go over and talk to him?”

“It looks like he’s with someone, though?”

“That’s not Rumi.”

“Didn’t they break up?”

“I think so--”

She shuts them out, second-guessing how “hushed” they’re actually trying to be. They want him to notice, don’t they...

He hears them, and Hinata’s uncertain look doesn’t quell his worries. Bringing up Rumi? Here? Now? The last person he wants Hinata to think about? “Sorry,” he mumbles out.

“Oh, no,” she denies. She should’ve expected this. Like they said, she’s not Rumi…someone who successfully made her status very public in a short amount of time...approved by the general crowd for her cute and bubbly demeanor...

The girls continue talking, his anxiety climbing as their voices get louder with their approach. He makes to stand. “Maybe I should...” _deal with them?_

Hinata’s eyes dart to him, silently wishing that he wouldn’t pay them any attention.

It strikes him through. “I’m not leaving! Hinata, I just don’t want them to bother us!”

She nods, biting her lips, surprised that he overreacted. “I understand.”

He hesitates, looking closely at her. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”

Once he catches the renewed faith in her eyes, he smiles, sealing his word. He hurries out past the curtain, to the group of girls’ great excitement, and he recognizes them...

“Good evening, Naruto-senpai~” Ahh, he should know her name.

“Are you busy?” That girl..he’s supposed to know her name, too.

The four gather around him, and he can’t quite establish any personal space. “Yeah, I’m busy right now.”  
They frown and sigh, then try to invite him out with them anyway.

In the past, he’s given in, having nowhere better to go necessarily. That’s not close to the case now. “I’m sorry, I’m on an important date.” He angles his body back toward Hinata.

They immediately quiet as their eyes dart to the girl, amongst each other, back up to him with much less giddiness in their gazes.

“I see, so sorry to interrupt!” one apologizes, and he thinks that’s pretty nice of her.

“We just wanted to say hi,” another says.

He smiles and nods, tries to steadily back away from them. “Good seeing you guys!” He gives a wave, hopefully finalizing the end of this exchange.

As soon as he sees them nod, hears them mumble out goodbyes and next times?, he blasts an appreciative grin and completely turns around.

Slipping into the seat next to Hinata has the same sense of completing a mission. He did it, and hopefully that didn’t take too long. He studies her...she’s not looking at him.

“I’m sorry...” she murmurs apologetically. 

_Sorry?_

“Maybe you would’ve liked to-”

“No!” he interrupts, catching on almost too late. “ _I’m_ sorry! I’m sorry for all of that, for making you wait.”

She shakes her head firmly. “No, you were really fast, but you could’ve talked to them for longer if you liked.”

It seems he also forgot how stubborn she is. “...I didn’t want to talk to them. I just want to talk to you.”

Her cheeks pinken. She frowns, brows furrowing. 

“This, our date, it’s really important to me, okay?”

She turns even redder and nods. “This is important to me, too.”

He smiles, satisfied. “So tell me about Shino! He really wants to be a teacher? What made him start thinking about that?”

She sees how much he’s trying to reassure her, and how easily he does it, too, never holding back, even in a moment like this. He leaves no room for her to doubt herself.

So she’ll stop thinking about other girls. She’ll focus only on him. “Have you seen Shino-kun with Mirai-chan?”

“Your sensei’s baby? Mmm...no, I don’t think so...” 

“He’s really, really good with her, and he’s found that he likes kids a lot. Shino-kun's always been very empathetic, very understanding, so I think he relates to them easily.” She goes on to tell him about Shino’s expectations for the education course, and Naruto tells her about the times he’s visited Iruka’s class to assist or demonstrate. The kids he’s met and their terrible antics.

The conversation is easy, interesting, and Hinata marvels at how none of it feels forced.

She doesn’t have to count his good points.

She doesn’t have to add up everything she admires about him.

It’s so easy to talk with him, it’s so, so cute to see him joyfully eat his ramen, and it’s just _so incredible_ to smile at him and receive his smiles in return.

His soft gaze is indescribably warm. Happy. The way she’s looked at him for so long…

To feel that from him, directed at her, it’s almost too much…

But she wants this. She wants all of it. To feel so free to look at him. To let her affection for him show in her gaze. To not have to put a cap on her love, bottle it up inside and hope none of it spills.

 _“Be careful,”_ she had told herself. But how? How can she possibly be careful? How can she possibly _withhold_ all the love she’s been hurting to give him for so long?

She doesn’t want the night to end.

But eventually, they’re walking side-by-side back to her place, slowly, slowly, until there’s no more distance left to keep.

She faces him and smiles with as much appreciation as she can show. “Thank you for walking me home.”

“Yeah, no problem.” He has no idea how the night ended so quickly when all they did was eat. Usually at this time, rather than only just finishing dinner, he’d be seeing Rumi off after all of the fooling around at his place-- Simply spending time with Hinata is even better than any of that perverted stuff. “Did you have fun tonight?”

She nods and hums her affirmation. “I did. Thank you for everything.”

His hands ache in his jacket pockets to hold her, but he’s going to be considerate even if it kills him.

“Did you have fun, Naruto-kun?”

He nods. “Yeah, I can’t believe how fast the time passed. It already got so late.”

“Mhm.” The fluttering feeling she’s felt all night continues unrelenting. “I didn’t notice how late it got, either.” Only now does the dark silence of the late night seem to close around them. Only the chilling wind creates a stir, but she failed to notice that, too.

He studies her cute, shy smile, can hardly believe that she enjoyed herself as much as he did. “Can we meet up again soon?”

“I’d really like that.”

“I don’t have a mission tomorrow.”

“Me, neither.”

“Then, tomorrow? I can come by around 11?”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They both realize that the night is over. The only thing she has left to do is turn around and head inside.

But she wonders if that’s not good enough.

She knows this was never good enough for Susumu. And is this good enough, perfect enough, for herself?

She casts her eyes down, unwilling to let him see the wavering of her nerves.

She takes two steps, closing the space between them, and mercifully, he doesn’t back away. Carefully, she leans into him a bit, his body warmth flushing her entire system hot.

He only just gets his hands out of his pockets to touch when she backs up, his hands left mid-air.

She’s staring at him with the funniest, shyest expression he’s ever seen. “Good night, Naruto-kun. Thank you for tonight.”

But he’s still trying to process the one-second hug. “That’s not fair,” he accuses before his brain can catch up with his mouth.

“Hm?”

“You-” He bites his lip, remembering that he wasn’t supposed to rush her. But what’s he supposed to do with this? How could she do something so cute and innocent?

...How innocent is she?

And with that wondering burning a small pit of jealousy in his gut, he turns his hands, showing her how she left him hanging. “...Will you let me?”

She fidgets but nods, not making eye contact. She takes one step forward, and that warmth surrounds her, his hands at her back, gentle. She thinks she’s never felt anything nicer, warmer, so intimate.

To be so close to the one she loves, it’s different.

To touch the person she’s longed to touch, it’s unreal, a waking dream. The slight rise and fall of his chest as he breathes--isn’t that alarmingly amazing? She’s too happy. This is what she’s wanted for so long, what she didn’t want to share with anyone else. How could she have dared to force herself to touch another man?... Well, she didn’t know this would ever happen. “Naruto-kun…”

“Hinata?”

“I love you.”

He squeezes her a little closer, the intimacy of her words and body turning his face hot. Three times now, _"_ _I love you"_ , and each time feels sweeter than the last. “I love you, too, really.”

“Mm.” It’s impossible for her to distrust his word. She tightens her grip, savoring him for one more second, breathing in his warmth, before letting go and stepping back.

She can barely look at him for how happy she is, but he’s smiling with a softness that’s as smushed up as her feelings.

He’s so beautiful.

“Good night, Naruto-kun,” she manages to breathe out.

“Good night, Hinata.” He watches her step away, give him a final, gorgeous smile, and then disappear behind the gate.

And suddenly, he’s left alone with only his heartbeat thudding out the slipping memory of her form.

It was too perfect.

He somehow messed up at the beginning, and then those girls interrupted the start of their dinner, but everything after, everything, just being with her, and then holding her, it was all perfect.

She was perfect.

When he was with Rumi, every moment was new and strange, and so he thought that’s how it must be.

Yet with Hinata? Familiar. Warm. Easy.

So comforting.

The whole night was dazzlingly wonderful. He could sprint the rest of the way home with how great he feels, give outlet to the elation jumping beneath his skin, and exclaim his delight to the stars in rushing breaths.

But he walks, choosing instead to wallow in his happiness and count his blessings quietly. The last thing he wants to do is tempt fate to twist up his fortunes and slide him backwards like he so rightly deserves.

One wrong move, and the universe might find him unworthy of its favor.

So he makes sure to arrive on-time again the next day.

When she steps out to meet him, she looks completely different, something about her demeanor, something about her smile. It’s not the clothing or her hair. Something softer? She’s not quite the daring warrior who stood at his side in the war, who protected him in battle, who’s sealed his tenketsu in spars or had dirt streaking her arms and legs after a mission. She’s not guarded at all.

She’s just...

This Hinata is somehow...

Still, warm familiarity flutters and warms him all over. It’s still Hinata, but this Hinata is _only_ for him. He just wants to protect this. Rather than selfish, this feeling is purer than a kiss from the sun on a breezy day.

He used to feel a kind of self-gratification, a proud slickness that settled in his gut, when he walked around with Rumi. Each date felt like an accomplishment, each step closer to her an affirmation of his growth.

The comparison is a sickening damper on his mood, and he doesn’t dwell on his ex as they head onto the shopping arcade. “Have you tried that new game center people have been talking about?” he asks.

She shakes her head. She doesn’t mention that she assumed it was entertainment for kids, but they are not too old, yet, right? She can see some young teenagers crowding around machines inside the center. “Have you?”

“No…”

“It looks fun,” she observes aloud, noting machines filled with plush toys, screens with small dancing visuals, and the obvious tension stringing groups of friends to stay glued to their games.

He grins. “Shall we go in?”

And she nods, pleased that she read his hidden curiosity correctly.

They investigate one of the machines that advertises its mission simulation in neon lettering. A pixelated little man jumps around the screen, dodging what they imagine must be flying kunai and leaping across trees. Naruto tentatively hits a round button and the screen changes, names of people scrolling upwards. He taps a different round button and the screen shifts to instructions.

“How do we play this thing?” He jabs at a few more buttons randomly, and the words **_Insert Coins_ ** flash at the top.

“Um…” Hinata looks down at the rest of the machine. “Over there.”

They peer at the slot.

“Okay…” Naruto opens his wallet and slips coins in until the machine makes a startling amount of music. He stands up straight, suddenly realizing he has no idea how the game works. He hits a button, and the man jumps.

“Maybe these buttons make you move forward,” Hinata guesses.

He presses it and the man starts running.

“Oh, jump!” Hinata exclaims as a gap in the trees appears.

He hits the button to jump, and the man leaps up…

And falls in the hole.

 **_Game Over_ ** flashes obnoxiously red on the screen.

They stare at it for a second, dumbfounded.

“What?!” Naruto argues. “Why did he jump in the hole?! Let’s try again.”

“Yes, try again,” Hinata encourages.

On a second try, he gets the timing of the trees, but only makes it to the flying kunai. “Whaaat!” he groans. He fishes out more coins and feeds them into the machine. “You wanna try this? Maybe you’ll be better than me,” he laughs.

“I think I know what to do.” She takes over and manages to get past the obstacles.

Naruto cheers her on throughout her play, then goes silent when she comes up against another little figure. He watches her throw shuriken at it, and eventually, the figure disappears. In its place poofs out a scroll, which her character seems to collect.

The game alerts them that she made it to level 2, where she promptly gets knocked out by a swinging log.

“Ah.” She watches the screen mock her in giant lettering and hears the intense music fizzle out. “Oh well,” she sighs.

“You made it to the next level!” he congratulates her. “Do you want to try again?”

She considers it for a second. She gets the feeling that she could be really good at this game if she kept playing, but then Naruto might get bored. “Maybe let’s look at the other games?”

“Hmmm.” He scans around the room and sees one that two people seem to be playing. “Maybe we can try something like that?”

“Oh, we can play together!” she happily observes.

“Yeah, looks like it.”

They settle on one that’s much simpler and less realistic, playing as two mice trying to collect as many blocks of cheese as possible without getting eaten by cats in a maze-like setting. It’s surprisingly harrowing, living the life of mice, and they both cry out in horror, then laugh, when a cat finally corners them.

He watches the smile bunching her cheeks and honestly feels relieved to see that she’s enjoying herself as they try out the different games. The new game center was a spur of the moment idea, and he didn’t actually think she would be interested. He’s pretty certain that Kanae and Rumi would not have been too keen on playing games that seem to be marketed for children.

When they finally decide to stop and get lunch at Ichiraku, they discuss the new experience, marveling at the technology.

“It’s like a television, but you can interact with it!” Hinata considers aloud. “I wonder how they did that?”

Naruto nods with equal fascination. “They had all kinds of games, too. Technology’s really changed in the past couple of years, hasn’t it, like people can have their own video recorders now. Makes you wonder what they’ll come up with next, you know.”

She blinks in surprise. Because actually, she hadn’t wondered about what will happen next. “Hmm…”

“Like that video game we played with the ninja character. Maybe they’ll make technology for shinobi.”

She tries to imagine what they could possibly need, but comes up empty. “...Like what?”

He shrugs. “Maybe different tools or medic-related things? I have no idea,” he laughs.

“Hmm… Technology that could make our work safer somehow would be nice.”

“Yeah. Or make communication faster when we’re on the job. There’s a lot of things we can do to ensure more safety for shinobi. Technology might be the key to that.”

She hums in thoughtful agreement. “You’ll be a great Hokage, Naruto-kun.”

He draws out of his musings and looks at her. His lifelong dream is more believable to the general public than it ever was before, but it’s still surprising to hear that kind of simple confidence in him.

She just took a mouthful of ramen, so she can’t do much to address his look. She tries to give him a closed-lipped smile and swallow as quickly as she can. “You’re always thinking about the future for us.”

“Oh,” he murmurs, inexplicably shy when usually he'd be peacocking at the recognition. Dazed, he slurps up more of his ramen to fill the silence.

She watches him eat through his blush, and she’s glad that at least this time, he’s taking her compliment without argument or deflection.

She sees that slowly but surely, they’ll grow more comfortable in each other’s presence. She looks forward to the day when he’ll acknowledge all that she sees in him. When that day will be exactly, she doesn’t know. Around 10 years worth of admiration and love would be a lot for anyone to take on, but she’ll do her best to convey all of it to him. In words and action.

So she lets herself enjoy his careful hug at the end of their date. It’s still daytime, and anyone could see them, but it’s still just as amazing as the night before. “Today was fun, Naruto-kun. Thank you.” She readies her heart for the separation, committing his warmth to memory, and steps back.

“Thank _you_ , Hinata. I had a lot of fun, too.” He already misses her. He can’t wait for the next time, but… “I’ll see you when I come back from my border patrol.”

She nods. “Be safe.”

His heart grows heavy, the knowledge of a perfect date coming to an end disappointing. “You, too, if you get called for a mission in the meantime.”

“Of course.” She smiles to make her promise with confidence, and she can see his promise to return safely in his eyes, too.

*

In any downtime, he finds himself musing on Hinata. He’s eager to see her smile, hear her laugh, and hold her again. And supposedly she’s returning from a mission today after another week apart.

So he weaves through the busy throngs of people as he heads to the Hokage’s Office. He’ll be helping with some administration duties, and if he’s lucky, he’ll get to see her while he’s there.

He enters the spacious lobby, and instead, his hopeful look around lands on a small brunette.

Rumi with her team.

He hasn’t seen her since that awful night. Eyes averted, he walks past them with as normal a rushed gait as possible to the stairs.

“Naruto.”

And he stops, her voice, once so intimate to him, freezing him in anxious guilt. He turns back to see her.

Her gaze is steely, slightly pinched with a look akin to anger, but he’s not sure. Distrust? Hatred? Any of those is what he deserves.

But he doesn’t have any idea as to why she would call out to him. “Rumi,” he murmurs.

And she grimaces. She strides forward, leaving her teammates sides, who are both in unfriendly stances toward him. She takes an obvious breath as she looks up. Her brows furrow, and he realizes, he’s the enemy. “I want to hear it from you.”

He waits for clarification.

She takes another breath. “You’re dating...Hinata-san.”

He watches how she doesn’t cry, she doesn’t look at all broken like that night. She’s hard, defenses up, prepared for his blow. It’s relieving, while simultaneously condemning him even more on his folly. He misjudged her strength. “...Yeah,” he quietly affirms.

He hears the doors open, and he looks up.

It’s Team 8.

He sees Hinata’s bewilderment at the situation, how her eyes widen, her pace slows.

“You’re the worst.” Rumi’s voice, scathing.

He looks back to her, alarmed by such an unfamiliar tone from her.

Her eyes squint with obvious scorn. She shakes her head. “I can’t believe you. I really-” She takes a step back. “You disgust me,” she gasps out. She turns around, rejoins her team, and walks out without hesitation.

He stands there stunned. He can’t bring himself to acknowledge Team 8’s uneasy presence, he can’t look at Hinata.

“We’ll go turn in our report,” Kiba murmurs.

Kiba and Shino leave.

He wishes she didn’t see that. Then he could at least try to pretend this never happened, suppress this memory like everything else he does when it comes to Rumi. He just wants to do better, be better. Move on. He doesn’t want Hinata to see what a disaster he’s been in the past.

She draws closer, though unsure of what to say. She can make a good guess as to why Rumi said those things to him. From what little Naruto told her at the hospital and what Sakura told her after, it seems like he broke up with Rumi so that he could be with her. If she didn't know that, then of course Rumi would be hurt to find out… “Naruto-kun?” she whispers.

He finally glances at her, surprised to see only concern in her eyes. “Sorry…” He doesn’t know what he’s apologizing for, he just feels like he should.

“No…” She tries to dig for words to set him at ease. It’s obvious his break-up was bad, much messier than her own. And as far as she knows, he broke up with Rumi only about a month ago, or even less, for about the time that they’ve been together. Was their relationship just too soon? What can she say?

“...I’ll talk to you later, Hinata…”

“Oh, okay.” She watches him run up the steps and disappear. Is it her place to follow? Or is this where she needs to give him space?

She decides to do what she must do. First, she goes to report in with the Hokage and help her team. Then after she’ll go looking for him, at least to tell him that she’s available.

He hurries to the Analytics Office to log data with Shikamaru. He can bury himself in work, be productive at the same time, and hide from humiliation.

He was such a fool to date Rumi. If he had never dated her, he would have never made such stupid mistakes, hurt her, wasted her time, wasted his own time, made Hinata wait, made Hinata date that guy, made himself sick and jealous. If he had just figured out Hinata’s feelings sooner, or if he had figured out his own feelings sooner.

If he had been smarter or more mature.

If he hadn’t been so foolish...

She hovers in the doorway, hesitant to bother him, when he seems to be ignoring her. But she finally steps in, making her presence obvious.

He looks up, surprised. “Hinata...Sorry, I can talk to you later…I need to help Shikamaru with all of this.”

She nods, wondering if she should have given him more space. He already promised to talk to her later after all, and so maybe she didn’t need to go looking for him.

“How annoying,” Shikamaru groans, looking up from his journal. “I don’t need help.” He looks pointedly at Naruto. “No need to put on a professional front, you missed her, right? You can thank me later.”

Naruto gapes at his friend. His excuse from confronting his stupid life taken away, just like that. “There’s still a lot left.”

“Just go.”

“But I’ve only helped for less than a hour.”

“You can just come back after.”

“I-it’s okay, Shikamaru-san.” Each of Naruto’s protests tears at her a little. If he needs more time away from her, then she should give that to him. She didn’t realize that she’s been getting spoiled by the last two dates. “I didn’t mean to bother, I just wanted to tell Naruto-kun that I’m free this afternoon.”

He can feel the emotional distance he’s putting between them, but it just feels like the right thing to do for now. His mind is so scattered with regret. He wishes he never dated Rumi. He wishes he never got so full of himself. He wishes he wasn’t so stupid, so disgusting, the worst. “...Sorry, Hinata, I don’t want to leave Shikamaru with all of this.”

“I understand.” She smiles to show that she really does. “Both of you are working really hard. I’ll be checking in at home, then, okay?”

Her smile cuts him. He’s obviously not doing the right thing, but what _is_ the right thing in this case? “Alright, I’ll see you later, Hinata.” He watches her turn away, disappear from view. But for now, just for now, he can’t talk to her. She said she understands, right? Can she tell that he doesn’t know what to do or say?

“What a drag. If you’re going to look so forlorn, then why the hell are you staying here?”

His gaze darts to his friend. “I’m not ‘forlorn’!”

Shikamaru presses his hand to his forehead, like he might have a headache. “I don’t want to ask. I’m asking anyway. What happened? You missed her all week, didn’t you?”

“...Yeah.” He frowns at the desk, not wanting to talk about this at all.

“...And?!”

“...And I saw Rumi downstairs.”

“...So?”

“Hinata saw us.”

“........So?! Isn’t that more reason to make sure that Hinata didn’t get the wrong idea?”

Naruto sits up, confused.

“Or are you thinking of breaking up already and going back to Rumi. Is that what happened?”

“No!” He stands, indignant at the suggestion. “Of course not!”

“Then why didn’t you want to talk to Hinata? She just came back from her mission.”

All of the fight drains out of him. “...I don’t know what to say.”

“That’s not like you,” Shikamaru intones. “Out of all of the times to choose to think first and act later, you’re choosing _now_ to hesitate?”

“What do you mean? I just don’t know how to act! Rumi said some stuff in front of everyone, and it was really bad, embarrassing. I’m not hesitating!”

“What did Rumi- No, it doesn’t matter. You don’t have to say or act anything special, Naruto. You should at least just greet Hinata properly.”

“...You’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Get out of here already,” he sighs.

“Yeah. Sorry, Shikamaru.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he says carelessly and waves him off.

He runs out of the building, and it doesn’t take long at all to catch up. “Hinata!”

She turns at his voice, surprised, but glad. “Naruto-kun!”

He walks in pace with her, energy falling just as quickly. “I’m sorry.”

She frowns. “No? There’s nothing to apologize for. I-I’m sorry for bothering you, I didn’t mean to be impatient.”

“No, I’m sorry for...earlier, and just now...” 

The sight of Naruto and Rumi’s confrontation bothered her, but she doesn’t think she should push him about it. She’s not sure it’s her place to ask what happened. But she does want to know if… “Are you okay?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.” He still feels shitty about all of it, but it’s not like Rumi said anything untruthful. He already knows he’s the worst. And at least there’s some reprieve in knowing that...that he disgusts her…

She tries to assess his serious expression. Should she ask? Should she give him space? Do people talk about their exes with their new partner? In the past, he just talked about Kanae without any curiosity on her part, so she’s never had to ask before. “...Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not really.”

She nods silently.

“Ah!!” he shouts in realization. “I didn’t go up to her myself or anything like that, Hinata! She asked me if I was dating you, and I said yes, and then..yeah.”

She stares for a second, surprised by his sudden outburst, but she nods even harder. “I...I kind of thought so.”

He lets out a quiet sigh of relief. He realizes that Hinata could have interpreted everything differently. Like Shikamaru said, she could have suspected he approached Rumi first. But she didn’t. She trusted him. Out of her forgiveness, he somehow didn’t ruin the faith she’s putting into their new relationship. He can't take her patience for granted. He needs to try harder. He needs to do better for Hinata.

He stops in his tracks.

Noticing that he’s not keeping up, she turns around. “Naruto-kun?”

“You know that I’d never cheat on you, right?”

The thought hadn’t occurred to her at all.

“You know that my...previous relationships...don’t compare to this, how I feel for you?”

She feels a blush rise. “...Naruto-kun...you said something similar before…” Of course she didn’t forget!

“I’m sorry I dated them, I wish I never dated them. I wish I realized my feelings for you earlier, and I wish I only had had you this whole time.” The regrets that clamored about his mind rush out, and in his vulnerability, he watches, afraid that he’s only reminding her of his mistakes. Where does she draw the line in her patience? In her forgiveness?

“N-Naruto-kun,” she stutters out, flustered, “I didn’t think you were cheating on me.” It’s true that at the start of their relationship, she told herself to be careful, but he’s since given her the same concentrated attention that he would to a mission. She hasn’t once felt like his affection is a lie.

“Hinata…”

She nods. She swallows down the butterflies. “I get to be with you now, and I’m very happy. I’ve never been happier. So, don’t worry about me.”

Her warm smile sets him at ease. How fortunate is he to have someone like Hinata willing to deal with him? And on top of that, be happy about it? “I hope I can keep you happy. I’ll make sure you’re happy all the time.”

Her expression scrunches up. She doesn’t know whether to smile or reprimand him for such silly yet earnest promises. She can’t handle it. She shakes her head, and looks down. “Naruto-kun, that’s too much.”

Too much? “No, it’s not. It’s my job as your boyfriend.” If she’s not happy with him all the time, then she’ll leave. It’s the very least of his duties!

She meets his gaze again, slightly perplexed. “This isn’t your job, please don’t think of this as your job. When it’s us, it’s just us. Of course, I want to make you happy, too, Naruto-kun, but happiness is something we do together, right? We’re a team?”

“A team…”

“If we have bad days, or if we ever disagree on something, we work through it together, and we come out happier together.”

“Bad days? I’ll never let you have a bad day, Hinata!”

“W-what!” she laughs.

“I’ll protect you from everything bad, and we’ll never fight or argue or anything like that!”

“Naruto-kun!” she protests.

He knows it sounds silly, but he means it. “I never want to make you sad or mad.” ...It strikes him that he’s made this promise before, truly believing he would hold his end up. And he didn't, his words far lighter and more easily broken than he could have ever realized of himself. Now, a heavy shame he doesn't even know how to hold.

“I never want to make you sad or mad, either." She wonders at his sudden downcast expression, if he's still thinking about Rumi, and if he always puts so much pressure on himself for his relationships. She doesn't want to be another weight on his shoulders. She just wants to see his smile. "If you’re happy, then I’m happy.” She gazes up at him, hoping he sees that she needs nothing else. 

Before her, his past guilt is forced back so easily. _Everything_ with Hinata is so easy. He would have never known. He hurt Rumi for a reason, he broke that promise because they both have better things to move on to. Each moment with Hinata affirms his decision. No matter how selfish it was, if Hinata's happy, then it was worth it. She makes everything worth it. “I’m happy if you’re happy, too.”

Pink fills her cheeks as her smile brightens.

“Thank you for being my teammate, Hinata.”

She can’t help fidgeting from his sweetness. “Thank you for being my teammate, Naruto-kun.”

He lets her returned affection settle in, calm the vestiges of his anxiety. He’s constantly afraid that he’s going to mess up, but Hinata makes it seem as if he’s been doing fine this whole time.

It makes him hopeful that they will last. Past one month, today, tomorrow, next month, next year. This is only the start, but he’s already made so many promises to make up for everything he's lacking.

At the very least, he needs to prove his word is worth her faith.

That he has love, the real thing, behind each of his pitiful apologies. 

He wants to start _giving_ , not always receiving. Even if she says she's already happy, he knows he can do so much more. But how?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm taking my time with the ending since I took my time with the angst haha, I think it's only fair to myself that I balance this story out with proper relationship development, fluff, and smut :)
> 
> If you've been enjoying this story, please consider donating $5 to  
> [LGBTQ Freedom Fund](https://www.lgbtqfund.org/donate-1) who bail out those in jail or immigrant detention centers  
> or  
> [Black Lives Matter](https://blacklivesmatter.com/) to transform communities with restorative practices and defund systems of violence.
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, and especially thank you for the encouragement to keep writing this story!


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